Wasted
by piratewench78
Summary: Companion to "Breathe In". Some backstory on Rayna and Deacon in that AU landscape.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: This is completely AU and is based on the little tidbit of information from "Breathe In" that Rayna had secretly gone to see Deacon's band, during the years he was away from Nashville. I do have a companion piece to this that will be posted later, also focused on "Breathe In" backstory. Anything else is up in the air.**_

* * *

_She'd gone to see him in concert once, in Atlanta, the closest place he played these days to Nashville. She'd put her hair up under a cap and worn the glasses she never allowed anyone to see her wear. She'd dressed down and then she'd sat in the nosebleed seats. She felt like she couldn't breathe, as she watched him on the Jumbotron screen._

She wished the weather were a little nicer. This would have been the perfect day to drive with a convertible top down, feeling the wind in her hair, blowing out all the bullshit that was in her head. But it was late March and, while sometimes it could be really warm, this year it was not. It was a cool, but sunny day, without a lot of traffic on the highway as she headed towards Chattanooga, on her way to Atlanta. As she drove, she listened to some of the songs she'd recorded for her new album, including the song she'd just written. It was still a little raw, so it was good to hear it this way.

_Standing at the back door / She tried to make it fast / One tear hit the hard wood / It fell like broken glass / She said sometimes love slips away / And you just can't get it back / Let's face it_

_For one split second / She almost turned around / But that would be like pouring rain drops / Back into a cloud / So she took another step and said / I see the way out and I'm gonna take it_

_I don't wanna spend my life jaded / Waiting to wake up one day and find / That I've let all these years go by / Wasted_

She had butterflies in her stomach. It had been ten years since she'd seen Deacon Claybourne and she wasn't sure why she was doing this now. She just knew she needed to be in the same space he was in, even if he didn't know she was there. As she drove, she thought about what had led up to this.

* * *

Teddy and the girls were leaving the next day. She was leaving the day after. A part of her felt a little guilty that she wasn't telling Teddy what she was doing, but a bigger part of her felt guilty for the reason that she was doing this at all. Maddie was going on a class field trip to DC during spring break and Teddy was chaperoning. They'd be gone for six days and would be touring all the famous sights in the capitol. When Rayna had seen the timing of the trip, she'd suggested that Teddy take Daphne as well. It would be a good learning experience for her, she'd told him, and he'd agreed.

What she hadn't told him, of course, was that when she had seen the bulletin about the field trip, she'd also seen the tour schedule for _The Deacon Claybourne Band_. There was a show in Atlanta the day after they left for the field trip. She hadn't seen Deacon in ten years, since just weeks after Maddie was born. He knew Maddie was his daughter. What he didn't know was that she'd never told Maddie, even though she'd promised she would. And that was why it had been ten years since she'd seen him.

So she was going to go to Atlanta and go to that concert. Deacon never came to Nashville. In all the years since he'd been gone, he hadn't stepped foot in the city even once. She still wasn't sure if she'd let him know she was there. When she'd seen the tour schedule, she'd told herself she had several months before she had to make that decision. All she had to do was wait for tickets to go on sale. She could decide all the rest later. But later was now.

There had certainly been times over the last ten years when she'd wanted to reach out to him, call him. But to say what? _Hello? Just wanted to see how you were doing? No, Maddie's fine and happy with her life the way it is. Sorry about that._ She couldn't lie. And so she hadn't called. The pain of losing him had dulled some over the years. She didn't look in Maddie's eyes, her face, and see Deacon there every time anymore. But whenever she'd hear one of their old songs on the radio or when she'd pass someplace they used to go or when she'd go into her underwear drawer and pull out that little velvet bag with the ring he'd given her that night they'd made Maddie…. Well, those were the times when she thought about him and she felt that same ache she'd felt when she'd told him goodbye the day he'd come to see their baby daughter. She never dreamed she wouldn't see him again, that he'd drive away from Nashville, never to return.

She wasn't at all sure how she felt right that moment, as she sped down the highway. She was nervous, yes. She was excited too. But she also felt a little bit of anxiety over misleading Teddy. They had decided all those years ago, when Deacon vanished from Nashville and couldn't be found, that Maddie never needed to know the truth. As the days and weeks turned into months and then over two years, with no hint of where he was or even if he was still alive, Rayna had felt more comfortable with that decision.

She'd thought he was probably dead, something she both feared and felt despair over. All the years they'd been together, as his alcoholism spiraled further and further out of control, she'd desperately worked to keep him alive. She'd prayed countless times when he disappeared, prayed that he was safe. As angry as she was every time she found him passed out somewhere, or in a hospital emergency room, or barely breathing in a hotel room, she would find a private moment to close her eyes and thank a merciful God that he was not dead.

The day had finally come, though, when she hadn't been able to do it another minute. After Vince Walker's death, Deacon's disease was out of control, and it had nearly destroyed her. There had not really been one single incident that caused her to say "I'm done". It was so many incidents, both large and small. It was the fact that he was blacking out. As scared as she was to cut ties and leave him alone, she was more afraid that she was going to get dragged down into that black hole with him. She was so tired. So beaten down. And so, when he was on another of his deep downward spirals and she couldn't find him, she moved out, taking every single thing that was hers.

He was in her blood though, just as she was in his, so when he showed up one day looking clean and sober and _irresistible_, she'd gone with him to the cabin. He begged her to stop seeing Teddy and then he'd surprised her with that ring, asking her to marry him. But the next day he was passed out on the couch and she wondered if he'd been drunk the night before and he'd just fooled her again, into thinking he was fine.

That was how they ended up in this place. She'd gotten pregnant, married Teddy, and Deacon had left Nashville. Even when Watty told her he'd found him, she hadn't really looked back. Until now.

_Another glass of whiskey but it still don't kill the pain / So he stumbles to the sink and pours it down the drain / He says it's time to be a man and stop living for yesterday / Gotta face it_

* * *

This was one of those times she was glad she had that secret credit card. The one in the name of R.W. Conrad. The one she used only for very private purposes. The one Teddy didn't even know about.

The day tickets went on sale for the Atlanta show, she got an alert on her phone. Before she could change her mind, she went online and found a seat in one of the upper levels of Philips Arena. She quickly selected it and ordered it before she could think about the wisdom of doing so. It would never occur to Teddy that she'd do this. One of the benefits of Deacon not being in Nashville was that Teddy never gave him a second thought. If Deacon still was in town, she was sure he'd be suspicious of every move she made. There was no way he could know that Deacon still lived in her head and her heart.

She still had time to decide if she wanted to let Deacon know she was there. She wasn't sure why the yearning was so strong, why she felt so certain she needed to do this. Usually she wasn't impulsive like this. She'd learned not to be, over the years. Deacon had brought that out in her and when that was over, she'd taken comfort in the familiar and the routine. Until now.

* * *

"I wish you were going with us, Mom," Maddie said, in her whiney voice.

Rayna smiled at her daughter. "Well, I have a tour to get ready for and an album that I need a couple songs for still, so I can get a lot of work done while you and your dad and Daphne are gone. Then when you're back, I can focus on you."

Maddie sighed. "I guess. But it won't be as fun without you, you know that. Dad is such a nerd about history."

That was another reason Rayna had begged off. History had always bored her in school and, much as she would have loved spending time with her girls, tromping around to historical sights was not her cup of tea. She looked around the room and then down at the suitcases on Maddie's bed. "Do you have everything you need?" she asked.

"I think so."

"Well, let's get you downstairs. I know Dad and Daphne are waiting." She picked up a suitcase and Maddie picked up the other and they walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

After she had hugged her girls and told them how much she'd miss them, and given Teddy a perfunctory hug and kiss, she walked them out to the car. She was actually kind of ready for them to be on their way, so that she could prepare herself for her own trip. Teddy put the window down and smiled at her. "We'll miss you, sweetie," he said, with a smile. "We'll call you every night."

She felt her stomach turn over. "Oh, I'll be rehearsing and stuff at night, so maybe call me before you go to dinner. That would be better."

Teddy shrugged. Rayna had the oddest schedules. "Sure, we'll do that. Maybe around five DC time, which is four your time."

Rayna smiled. "Perfect." She leaned down so she could look in the car. "Girls, behave for your dad and have a great time! I'll miss you lots!"

"Bye, Mom!" Maddie and Daphne cried out in unison.

She stepped back from the car and waved as Teddy backed out and then drove out through the gate.

* * *

Rayna sat in her SUV and programmed in her destination. Every time she'd thought about what she was doing, she would consciously put it out of her head. If she thought logically about this, she wouldn't do it at all. She'd go right back in the house and tear up the ticket that was burning a hole in her purse. She really had mixed feelings when she thought about it. She'd already decided she couldn't see Deacon. There was too much between them, including the lie. And yet here she was, getting ready to hit the road early in the morning, headed for Atlanta.

_Cause' I don't wanna spend my life jaded / Waiting to wake up one day and find / That I've let all these years go by / Wasted  
_

* * *

Rayna stood in front of the window at her hotel. She wondered where Deacon's band was staying. She doubted it was at the Ritz Carlton, so she felt somewhat safe, but she'd ordered room service anyway. She'd hardly touched any of the food, just drinking the wine she'd ordered. As she stood looking out over the city, as the late winter sun started to sink towards the horizon, she felt a deep and abiding despair.

She'd promised, ten years ago, that she would tell Maddie about him. Her biological father. _Deacon._ She'd made him sign an agreement that said he would let Teddy raise her and that she would tell their daughter the truth when she was old enough. But she hadn't done that. Deacon had never contacted her again, after he'd left Nashville, and she knew he was honoring the agreement – that he would let Maddie initiate the contact. She could only imagine what he thought, not hearing from his daughter.

He was married now, too. Belle, Brenda, something with a B. Rayna couldn't remember the girl's name – and she was just a girl, best she could tell – but every time she saw a picture of the two of them, they looked happy. Deacon looked happy. _Was he really? Did he really just move on like that?_ The way she really could not? She wondered if Deacon's wife was with him, here in Atlanta. Or did she stay back in Texas, the way Teddy stayed back in Nashville?

Somehow, she'd never thought Deacon would get married. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't really that he wasn't the marrying kind, because they'd talked about it now and then, usually as something they'd probably do sometime in the future. He'd asked her to marry him, of course, that night at the cabin, although whiskey had erased that memory for him.

It wasn't fair for her to think that way, because, of course, she'd gotten married. But she hadn't married for love, she'd married to protect her child. The fact that she had grown to love Teddy over the years, because he took care of her and because he gave her Daphne, confused the issue for her. She certainly didn't love Teddy the way she'd loved Deacon, but it had been a good, solid marriage. So why shouldn't Deacon have that too? Except that in the pictures she saw of him and his wife, they looked like they were in looove, as the girls would say. _He_ looked like he was in love. She and Teddy didn't look that way. They never looked that way.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed.

* * *

She stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room. She pulled her hair up into a tight bun on top of her head and fitted a fedora over it. She had washed all the makeup off her face and put on her glasses. She made a face at herself. She always thought of these as her librarian glasses and she never let anyone but her family see them, and then only rarely. With an old pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, along with an old scuffed up pair of boots, she didn't think anyone would recognize her. She was pretty sure Deacon's audience wasn't her audience, but she didn't want to take a chance. An old fitted leather jacket completed her look and she headed down to the lobby to pick up her cab.

She'd chosen to sit in the nosebleed section. She wondered if Deacon still sat up there before a show. It was a ritual the two of them had started back when they had performed together and she maintained that ritual. It was a good reminder that not everyone could sit up close and they deserved the same great experience as the people who paid hundreds of dollars to sit down by the stage.

* * *

As the arena began to fill, she looked around. It was a mix of people, old and young, male and female. Most were wearing cowboy boots and jeans, many wore the _Life on the Run Tour_ t-shirts, probably bought as they entered the arena. No one paid her any attention as they got settled in their seats, straggling in over the course of the openers' sets. The openers were solid – Jake Owens and Eli Young Band – but she was anxious to get to the main event. As the roadies were breaking down Eli Young Band's set and setting up Deacon's, she found herself getting anxious. It was silly, because she was about as far away as you could get in this arena, so it wasn't as though he'd see her or even know she was there. But she felt her chest tighten and her breathing got more shallow.

Suddenly the lights went out and the roar of the crowd picked up. It was almost like an ocean wave, starting in the pit and swiftly rolling towards the rafters of the arena. The noise became almost deafening as the drums started beating in a deep primal way. Then came the bass guitar, adding a dark note, and suddenly the rest of the guitars. It was a tribal beat, regular and slow. Rayna could feel it, even all the way up where she was, in the soles of her feet, and then it seemed to thrum through her body. The crowd was still roaring, clapping to the beat. The lights were coming up slowly, illuminating the members of the Deacon Claybourne Band. A single spotlight hit the sidestage. Rayna didn't think the crowd could be any louder, but as she watched on the big screen, she saw Deacon walk out from the shadows, his right hand held high above his head, acknowledging the crowd, which was at a fever pitch. She could scarcely breathe.

He approached the mike at center stage and shifted his guitar in front of him. He ran his fingers over the strings rhythmically, although there was no particular melody. Then, suddenly, there was a downbeat and he launched into "Postcard from Mexico", which startled her. That was _their_ song and here he was, singing it without her. She had wild swings of emotion, from anger to hurt to amazement at how good it sounded. He had female back-up singers that took her part and he had created a version that was amped up in a very different way from how they'd performed it.

She watched him on the screen, his intensity, the inherent sexiness to the way he sang his part. Even though she was really just seeing a visual of him, it was the closest she'd been to him in ten years and her heart was in her throat. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his hair, see his eyes look into hers, watch that little crease develop between his eyes, feel his lips on hers. She was glad the people around her were so into the song and couldn't hear her little involuntary moan.

* * *

About four songs into the show, Deacon leaned into the mike. "Thank y'all for coming tonight," he said, a huge grin on his face. "Always a pleasure to be in the ATL." There was a huge cheer for that from the local crowd. He stood back a second, his hand on his guitar, soaking in the adoration. When Rayna actually heard his voice, she'd felt it like a zinger to her core. All the blood seemed to rush to her head. Then he leaned back towards the mike and said, "This is for all of us that got bumped for that 'nice guy'."

He launched into "He Ain't Me", the song Rayna always believed he'd written about her. But she'd thought every song he wrote was about her and she wasn't sure that really was true anymore. It had been a long time since they'd been together and she wasn't sure he even still felt the same things anymore. After all, she'd turned him away, told them there was no future for them, told him to leave them alone. And he had.

_Bet that guy's gotta line or two / He cares and swears he's there for you / He thinks he's Mr. Right and he might be / But he ain't right for you, / 'Cause honey he ain't me_

* * *

"So y'all know we have a new album out." The crowd roared and Deacon smiled. "I got word today, thanks to y'all, we're already platinum." Another crowd roar. "So we wanna do one for y'all that's a little different for us. But we hope you like it."

_Diamond rings and old barstools / One's for queens and one's for fools / One's the future and one's the past / One's forever and one won't last_

Rayna watched him on the big screen. This was definitely more like the Deacon she knew. She knew the song, because she'd bought the CD as soon as it was released, like she always did. It was a ballad, and not the band's standard fare. She couldn't help but wonder, yet again, if it was about her. _But how could it be? It's been ten years. He's married. It's just a song._ A part of her wondered if he'd gotten over her or if he still dreamed about her at night, the way she dreamed about him.

_The wrongs and rights, the highs and lows / The "I love you's," the "I told you so's" / Past few miles to wherever's home / Another morning waking up alone_

She felt her heart clench as she watched him. Ten years older, but the years had been kind to him. She couldn't see all the details from her vantage point, but he still had that killer smile, the twinkle in his eyes that could change to heartfelt emotion in an instant. He still had the familiar stubble, although his hair was shorter these days. He still closed his eyes when he leaned into the mike. And when he finished, he gave that almost shy smile to the crowd at their applause.

_We ain't like midnight and cigarette smoke / Nothing like watered down whiskey and coke / I guess some things just don't mix like you hoped / Like me and you / And diamond rings and old barstools _

Even though none of it was because of her, she felt so proud of him at that moment. All of his success, the adoration of the crowd, he deserved every bit of it and she couldn't have been happier for him. She wondered sometimes what it would be like for him to still be in her band, but she'd always wondered, back in those days, if he could have made it on his own. Now she knew.

* * *

She barely made it to her room before the tears came. She wiped her eyes fiercely and took several deep breaths. She stumbled to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, as she removed the hat and pulled the pins out of her hair. She pulled out the rubber band and then her face crumpled into more tears. _How could he have left me? How could I have let him go?_

She bent over the sink and gripped the counter as she struggled to regain her composure. _How did I let this get so fucked up?_ She looked at herself again, mascara streaking down her cheeks. _Why in the world did I think this was the life I wanted?_ She could scarcely breathe as she thought of how she felt like a robot, just gliding through life without many highs or lows. She loved her girls, fiercely and fully. They were the very best thing in her life, the very best thing she'd ever done. It was what she was born for – to be a mama, to be _their_ mama. But the rest of her life was so empty. Without Deacon, it just didn't matter.

But she felt trapped. Trapped in this white picket fence life that she'd always thought she'd wanted. It was what she told Deacon she wanted and what she told him he could never give her, that day she sent him away. It was what she told him that day she went to the cabin to tell him she was pregnant. _You can't even get sober and stay sober, Deacon. How could you be a father? You're not in any shape to be a father. You can't raise up a baby. _She raised her hand up and covered her mouth. She could see the pain in her own eyes. No wonder he left. She had said some variation of that to him until the day she let him see Maddie. And then the next day he was gone.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and backed up until she hit the wall. Then she slowly slid down onto the floor. She pulled her arms up and crossed them over her head, lowering her face to her knees and she sobbed, deep and gasping for breath, feeling like her heart was breaking all over again.

_Oh, I don't wanna spend my life jaded / Waiting to wake up one day and find / That I've let all these years go by / Wasted_

_Oh I don't wanna keep on wishing, missing / The still of the morning, the color of the night / I ain't spending no more time / Wasted_

* * *

Rayna was on the road by ten. She hardly paid attention to the scenery outside her window. She drove out of Atlanta and eventually lost the heavy traffic, falling in with the tractor trailers headed for Tennessee.

_It's a long, long road to independence / But I'm leaving you for Tennessee / I've got demons riding shotgun, telling me not to go / But what they don't know / Is I'm already gone / I'm already gone_

Those words came to her mind. One of the last songs she'd written with Deacon. Her heart felt heavy and she wanted to cry, even though she'd felt like she'd cried all the tears she'd had the night before. She felt a hollowness inside. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. It had reminded her too much of what they'd had and what they'd lost.

She thought about Maddie. She'd married Teddy to give her daughter a safe, secure life. _And let's face it, me too._ But it was a hollow life, for her anyway. And every day that went by was another day she was denying Deacon the access to his daughter that she'd promised. But she also knew that probably wasn't going to change, at this point. She wouldn't do it to Teddy. She'd just figure out what to do if the day ever came that Deacon found out the truth.

She thought about what Coleman Carlisle had told her, back when she'd sent Deacon to rehab for the fourth time, that she needed to let Deacon go. He'd been Deacon's sponsor then and he'd been just as devastated about Deacon's lapses. He had met her at Percy Warner Park, the same day she'd taken the home pregnancy test. Deacon had been at the rehab facility for a month and had another month to go.

Coleman held her hand as she cried. He didn't know, of course, that she was crying about the new life inside her and her despair over the circumstances. "Rayna, you have to let him go," he'd said. "He'll never get better if you don't."

"But I love him, Cole," she'd said.

"I know. But he needs to break these old patterns. He keeps coming back to the same life and he takes the same road. We need to get him into a different headspace." He'd looked at her compassionately. "I don't want to hurt you, Rayna, but he needs to figure this out without you. I don't know what you need to do to break the cycle, but you need to figure it out and do it before he comes home."

Cole, of course, had no idea how impossible that had felt to her. She was pregnant, with Deacon's baby, and the last thing she'd wanted was to cut him loose. She'd wondered if this was what would make him better, knowing he was going to be a father. Would this be what it took to break the cycle? The truth, of course, was that he hadn't been able to make this thing work before, and she wasn't sure she could risk everything on the not-so-likely chance that this would be the time.

That's when she told Teddy she'd marry him. They announced their engagement and then, three days later, Deacon checked himself out of rehab, and went back into the same cycle.

She felt the tears on her cheeks. If only she'd had a crystal ball back then and could have seen what the future might have held for them. But she'd made a decision and it was the one she had to live with. And the reality was that Cole was right all along. When she cut him loose, he eventually figured it out. and now he was stronger than ever and he had the life he deserved. She'd seen it for herself.

_She kept drivin' along / Till the moon and the sun were floating side-by-side / He looked in the mirror and his eyes were clear / For the first time in a while / Hey, yeah_

_Oh, I don't wanna spend my life jaded / Waiting to wake up one day and find / That I've let all these years go by / Wasted_

_Oh I don't wanna keep on wishing, missing / The still of the morning, the color of the night / I ain't spending no more time / Wasted_

_**The song in the title of this story is "Wasted" by Carrie Underwood. Other songs are "He Ain't Me", written by Chip Esten and Steve Mandile, and "Diamond Rings and Old Barstools" by Tim McGraw.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**So this is the story behind the song Deacon sang at the concert Rayna attended. Four years later.**_

Deacon stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee to finish. He flipped through the latest issue of _Rolling Stone Country_. He was trying to be nonchalant about it, but with Rayna on the cover, it was hard to stay away from old memories. She looked good. Hell, she always looked amazing, even when she wasn't glammed up and airbrushed to the nth degree. He thought she actually looked best with no makeup, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, wearing old jeans, old boots and one of his t-shirts. He still hadn't read the story, although he knew he eventually would. Or at least would skim it. He was surprised at how much it all still hurt, still felt so close to the surface.

He'd been gone from Nashville for six years, although the first couple were mostly a blank. Just like the last couple of years he'd been in Nashville. When Watty had found him and took him to rehab, he'd felt sure Rayna was behind it, although he'd never asked and Watty had never said. It had taken a six month program to finally get him set up for success, but he knew the reason he was clean and sober today was on him. He'd made a commitment to this, because he wanted to be the best man he could be, for himself and for his daughter. He was ready to be a dad, the kind of dad that Rayna didn't think he could be.

The coffee was ready, so he poured himself a mug and closed the magazine, turning it over. He walked out to the deck that overlooked the lake. He put the mug down on the railing and leaned on it, clasping his hands in front of him, squinting his eyes against the early morning sunlight. Maddie would have turned six not long ago. He knew nothing about her. He'd shut the door on Rayna when he left Nashville and when he'd finally emerged from his two and a half year booze-soaked nightmare, he'd been resolute in his decision not to be the one to reach out. She'd accused him of not being able to stand on his own and told him she would never prop him up again. He was determined, then, to find his own way, his own place in the world. Without Rayna Jaymes.

But he always thought he'd hear about Maddie. Even though the agreement was that it was Maddie's choice, somehow he'd thought maybe Rayna would let him know how she was doing, what was going on with her. But there had been nothing but silence. And as the days and weeks, months and years had gone by, he'd somehow figured out a way to mostly bury the hurt and pain and just keep moving forward.

He didn't like to think about the fact that he'd missed Maddie's first smiles, her first words, her first steps, all those firsts. It hurt to think that she was calling Teddy Conrad "Daddy" and not him. But maybe it was better this way. He was sure she had a good life, that she was happy and loved, and he knew that because he felt sure he'd have heard if it was different. He knew Rayna was still married to Teddy, that they'd had a daughter of their own together. She was living the life she said she'd always wanted, that white picket fence life that she told him he couldn't give her.

He looked down and then pushed off the rail, grabbing up his mug. He moved to sit in one of the chairs and watched the lake rippling in front of him. This place was a calming place. He'd bought it after the band had their first triple platinum album. It reminded him a little of his place north of Nashville, but only that it was on a lake. Although the trees surrounding the property gave it privacy, it was not as secluded and off-the-beaten track as the cabin had been. This place wasn't far outside Austin, but it felt like the best of both worlds. Close, but not too close. It had been a healing haven for him as he had rebuilt his life in Texas.

He grimaced as he took a sip of the coffee, realizing he'd let it sit too long and now it was lukewarm. He got up and walked back in the house to pour another mug.

* * *

_When Jaymes was starting out, her lead guitar player, and live-in love, was Deacon Claybourne. She often credited him with being a big part of her success. Many of her most popular songs were co-written with Claybourne, most of which she declines to perform today. But Claybourne seemed to vanish, from both her band and Nashville, for several years, before turning up in Austin, Texas and now headlining his own band. When asked about him, Jaymes is circumspect. "Deacon had a lot of issues that we just couldn't work through together," she says. "It was kinda bittersweet when he left, but we've both prospered since then. I think we were just too different, in so very many ways."_

He dropped the magazine on the deck. He felt like there was a weight on his chest. _I think we were just too different, in so very many ways._ It was true that their backgrounds could not have been more different. She came from money, from high society, and he came from nothing. A hardscrabble life in Natchez, Mississippi, with a violent drunk for a father and a mother with mental illness. He and his older sister Beverly had grown up in fear, for their lives but also for their futures. They had clung to each other, trying, not always successfully, to keep each other safe from the rages of their father and the unintentional neglect by their mother. They'd both escaped – him farther than Beverly – but not completely. Deacon was a drunk, Beverly had similar mental issues as their mother.

But even though Rayna's life was more privileged than his, he knew she'd had her own share of pain. She'd told him that her parents had been distant from each other for as long as she could remember. That there were fights, especially over her mother spending time outside the house and her father's busy travel schedule. Her mother had died when she was twelve, but her memories were good ones for the most part. But Lamar Wyatt had been a distant father, both literally and emotionally. And he'd kicked Rayna out of the house when she was sixteen, because she'd wanted a career in country music.

He sighed, then got up and retrieved a guitar from inside the house. He sat and looked out over the lake, then closed his eyes. He saw Rayna the way he'd first seen her, at the Bluebird, looking so very young and fresh and pretty, with her expensive cowboy boots and her perfect little outfit. And there he was, in clothes that were thinning from being worn over and over, and scuffed up boots and hair he trimmed himself. They did come from different backgrounds, but he'd always thought they had connected on a level that didn't know class or position in society. Was he wrong?

He opened his eyes and wrote down some words and then worked on putting down the melody in his head.

_Diamond rings and old barstools / One's for queens and one's for fools / One's the future and one's the past / One's forever and one won't last_

* * *

There was a picture of her with Teddy, Maddie and Daphne. One of those portrait pictures. She was holding the little one on her lap and Maddie was sitting on Teddy's lap. He felt a spasm of pain in his heart and he breathed deeply, trying to make it go away. He looked closely at Rayna. She had a smile on her face, but he noticed it didn't really seem to make it all the way to her eyes. He knew most people wouldn't notice, but he did. He knew her so well. Maddie looked happy though. She was wearing glasses. Something else he didn't know about her. They made her look older, more serious, even though she had a big grin on her face. He smiled. His girl was beautiful, with her long, dark hair and her big smile. He bit his lip and felt tears in his eyes. His heart hurt. He wondered when he'd get to know her.

_It ain't like midnight and cigarette smoke / It ain't like watered down whiskey and coke / I guess some things just don't mix like you hoped / Like me and you / And diamond rings and old barstools_

* * *

_Jaymes has really been on a torrid trajectory in the last five years or so. Sold out arena tours, a triple platinum album, two double platinums, three Grammys, three straight CMA Female Vocalist of the Year awards and an Entertainer of the Year nod three years ago. When asked what changed, she said, "You know, sometimes you get weighed down with baggage and bad patterns. I had to do some housecleaning, if you will. After my first daughter was born, I made some decisions that lifted a huge weight off my shoulders and gave me a clean slate. I like to think I made the most of that opportunity."_

He worked his lip. She didn't say it in explicit terms, but he knew what was between the lines. He had been her baggage, her bad patterns. The first time he'd gone to rehab, she'd been so supportive. She worried that he would hate her for sending him. All he'd felt was embarrassment that she'd had to do it at all. He'd been so grateful that she'd waited for him, been there when he walked out the door. He had completely felt like he hadn't deserved that.

That was when he'd bought the cabin. For her. He sighed as he thought about that. He remembered when she had shared with him her dream – to have a house on a lake where they could grow old together, raising up their children and playing music together. She had described it to him one night when they were out on the road, as they traveled to the next gig. She had just turned nineteen and they had been together almost three years.

"_Don't you have a dream, babe?" she'd asked him, as they snuggled up together in the back of the old bus, in the tiny little sleeping compartment with the bed that was really too small for the two of them. They didn't mind, though, because they liked the closeness._

_He had smiled and nuzzled her neck. "You're my dream, baby," he'd responded. "I don't need nothing more than you."_

_She laughed. "Silly. You're my dream too, but I mean the future. Don't you think about that? What our future will be?"_

_He hugged her close and smiled again. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want."_

_She got a dreamy look on her face. "A little house on the lake, away from everything and everybody. Someplace we can go and just escape everything. A place just for us. And one day, for our family." She wrinkled her nose and smiled. "Too much?"_

_He shook his head and leaned in to kiss her. "No, ma'am. One day we'll have that place. I promise you that."_

He'd found it after he got out of rehab that first time. He'd been surprised at how closely it matched what she'd wanted. He knew he wasn't supposed to buy something like that, but he'd been so grateful to her for standing with him. And he loved her so much. He would never have believed he could have fallen in love at the age of nineteen. No, not just fallen in love, but found the person he was meant to be with. Because he'd known it then, just like he knew it now.

Only it hadn't lasted. It just wasn't meant to, he guessed.

_The wrongs and rights, the highs and lows / The "I love you's," the "I told you so's" / Past few miles to wherever's home / Another morning waking up alone_

* * *

_Jaymes and her husband, businessman Teddy Conrad, have two daughters. On the subject of her girls following in her footsteps one day, Jaymes laughed. "They're a little young for that, you know. But, if they choose to do that, I'd want them to wait until they're out of school. This business has changed a lot and I want them to have normal growing up experiences before they think about a future in music, or whatever they choose to do." But her oldest daughter seems to already have the bug. "Maddie, my oldest, she loves to play the guitar. I'm not sure where that comes from, because I'm certainly no guitar player," she says with a hearty laugh. "But she's just gravitated to it. So you never know."_

He felt a little bit like he couldn't breathe. _Maddie, my oldest, she loves to play the guitar._ He breathed out. Somehow, he hadn't expected that. It made him proud, to think that she might have gotten that from him, even though he wasn't sure that was something you passed on to your child. But thinking that she liked to play, even at the age of six, hit him hard. It would have been something for them to share. It could still be something for them to share. One day.

He never talked about Maddie, of course. He'd never told anyone in Austin about her, about having a daughter. He wasn't exactly sure what all had been in that agreement. Rayna hadn't given him a copy that day. Maybe she would have, the next day or the day after that or sometime in the future, had he stayed in Nashville. He hadn't even read it. She told him the gist of it. Teddy's name would be on the birth certificate as her legal father. That had already happened, of course, by the time he'd signed it. They'd already agreed to that. Or, actually, it had been decided and he'd been told that was how it would be. Rayna told him that. Teddy had never been a part of their conversations.

The other part was that it would be Maddie's choice whether to have a relationship with him or not. Rayna had promised she would tell Maddie, that she would always know. He didn't know what that meant. Would she have told Maddie from the beginning that the man she called "Daddy" wasn't really her daddy? Would she understand something like that at two or three or even six? He frowned as he thought about how that might work. He was afraid he might have fucked that part up. It would be easy for Rayna and Teddy to never tell Maddie. But he had to trust Rayna. He didn't trust Teddy, but he trusted Rayna. And he knew she would do the best for Maddie that she could.

But she and Teddy had their own daughter now. That changed things. Maybe they'd want to have their own family and not make Maddie choose. He felt a cold chill run down his spine. _What if they don't tell her?_ She said she had a clean slate. What if that meant Maddie too?

_It ain't like midnight and cigarette smoke / It ain't like watered down whiskey and coke / I guess some things just don't mix like you hoped / Like me and you / And diamond rings and old barstools_

* * *

_When asked if she'd ever collaborate with her old songwriting partner again, she seemed almost a little sad. "I would never say never, but it doesn't seem like that's in the cards for us again. Deacon's gone in a different direction and we just really don't cross paths. Musically, we just aren't in the same place anymore." And about his refusal to come to Nashville? "You'd have to ask him that. I really don't know."_

Writing with Rayna had come so naturally. Well, after a few fits and starts, with her telling him she didn't need anyone to write with her. But one day she was stuck on a verse and she'd asked him what he thought. Hesitantly, he suggested a change to a line and deleting another line. He had expected her to blow up at him, but had been surprised when she looked at it and decided it was better that way. From that day on, they wrote together regularly.

All her biggest hits were songs they wrote together. Well, her biggest hits before he left Nashville. Before she fired him from her band and kicked him out of her life. She didn't sing those songs anymore, except for a couple that weren't overt love songs. Instead, now she wrote her own songs, or she sang other peoples' songs. She still had giant hits, but she didn't do those soulful ballads like they used to write anymore.

To be fair, he didn't either. He'd sung some of them when he was playing the honky-tonks around Austin, when he was still drinking. Some people recognized him, although he'd never been a front man, just Rayna's bandleader and lead guitar player. Watty had promised him, when he took him to rehab that last time, that he'd hook him up with people in Austin that could get him on the map. And he had.

The idea of a band had been that of his first producer, Mike Allen. Mike had pulled together some of the best session players he knew, several of whom had spent time in Nashville at one time or another. They knew Deacon and his musical reputation and were interested in a collaboration. That it had turned into a band and that it bore his name, still blew him away. He still did most of the songwriting, but he and his bandmates had worked to create a new sound.

So Rayna was right, they had gone in different directions musically. His new brand of country had more than a hint of rock 'n roll in it and he found he liked the high energy sound. He still wrote other songs, like the ones he'd written before, but he put them away for the day when he would need that sound again. If he'd need that sound again.

As to why he didn't go to Nashville? Because she was there. And because he was certain that if he stepped foot in that city again, he would be done. He wasn't ready for that. As far as he'd come, it was still fragile. One of the things Watty had said to him when he'd picked him up at the end of the six month program had really stuck with him. _You need to do this on your own, Deacon. I know you love Rayna and I know you want a relationship with your daughter, but if you don't figure this out, this time, none of it will be worth it. You'll know when it's time, when you're ready. If you go back any sooner, you'll lose it all forever._

When he was asked, he didn't answer the question as to why he wouldn't go back to Nashville. Why he wouldn't perform there or even go pick up an award. He wasn't ready. The members of the band didn't understand, but they didn't argue. Someday, it would be time, and that's when he would go.

_We ain't like midnight and cigarette smoke / Nothing like watered down whiskey and coke / I guess some things just don't mix like you hoped / Like me and you / And diamond rings and old barstools _

* * *

He had a good life now. He had a career far beyond anything he'd ever dreamed of for himself. It was far beyond anything even he and Rayna had ever dreamed of. He'd found a place that felt like home. If it wasn't the same as Nashville, it was close enough. He'd found a rhythm to his life that was serving him well and letting him stay sober and focused on the future. And he'd finally found love again. Something he wasn't sure he ever would.

That day he'd left Nashville, he was at the lowest point he'd ever been. But he'd climbed out of the abyss and was headed forward. Rayna was his past, an important part, to be sure, but he was moving on. Figuring it out every day.

He heard the sliding door open and close, then felt Blair's arms go around his neck. "How come you let me sleep so late?" she murmured in his ear.

He smiled and then threaded the fingers of his right hand into hers. "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you," he said.

"Are you writing a song?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Is it finished?"

He shook his head. "Not quite." He knew she wouldn't really be that interested, so he didn't want to make her feel obligated to listen. Besides, it was one of those songs he wrote for later. He lifted her left hand. "Pretty ring," he said, looking at the diamond sparkling on her hand.

She laughed softly. "This incredibly handsome, sexy guy who sings in a band gave it to me last night," she said teasingly. He tugged her hand and pulled her around to sit in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her close. _She's not Rayna, but maybe she is who I need. So I can keep moving forward._


	3. Chapter 3

Deacon took a deep breath before he turned to walk down the hallway at Watty's studio. Even though he hadn't had a drink in nearly three weeks, he still felt shaky. His mouth felt dry and his stomach felt tied in knots, but that was more because he was seeing Rayna than the drying out. He had really hoped that he'd have the strength to lick his addiction, once Rayna had told him she was pregnant. But instead of it being a joyful time for them, it had turned into a nightmare. She'd told him she didn't think he could get sober and stay sober and that she was going to marry Teddy Conrad and let him provide them with that family she'd always wanted. He had been desperate to prove her wrong, but it turned out she had been right all along. He hadn't been able to do it, at least not more than a few weeks at a time.

He'd tried to convince her, over and over, in the beginning, to give them a chance. But she'd been resolute in her decision and, on the day she and Teddy announced to the world that they were married, he'd gone to a bar and started drinking. When he finally had conscious thought again it was two days later and he couldn't remember why he'd gotten so drunk. When he finally saw the photos of Rayna and Teddy's wedding, he felt like he'd been stabbed through the heart.

In the beginning, she had agreed to see him and let him know how she was doing and how the baby was doing. They always met somewhere that was private but where there would be other people around, usually either Watty's office or at Soundcheck. She always kept him at a distance, though, both physically and emotionally. He felt his heart ripped into pieces every time he saw her, saw her body changing. He alternated between begging her to let him be part of his child's life and fighting with her over keeping him at arm's length.

He struggled with the fact that they were having a baby together and yet they weren't. The things she was experiencing, that they should have been experiencing together, she was going through with someone else. She didn't talk to him about her hopes and dreams for their child or share with him all the emotions she was feeling. He tried to talk to her about his emotions, but she didn't want to hear it. She would cut him off, change the subject, sometimes just get up and walk away. All she would share with him were basic details about the baby – health, vitals, results of any tests – just enough so that he knew everything was fine.

He felt completely left out and not part of what was going on. At one point, he'd asked her why she'd even told him in the first place, if she was going to shut him out, torture him with just enough information to break his heart. _I couldn't lie to you. In spite of everything, I couldn't lie to you. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had lied to you._

After a pretty emotional argument, which had resulted in him grabbing her by the arm, which had scared her, she'd pulled away and told him they couldn't see each other again. That she couldn't risk it. She had told him to stay out of her life and not to call her or try to see her again. He'd called what felt like a million times, but she'd never answered. After giving up for a while, he'd finally asked Watty for his help.

She wouldn't see him when he was drinking and it had been hard for him to stay sober for more than a few days at a time. But he was trying this time, now that it was closer to when the baby would be born. He was going to meetings and Coleman was helping, but it was hard. He was feeling left out, pushed away by Rayna. He knew a lot of that was because of Teddy, but it was _his_ baby she was having and he needed to feel a part of that.

He got to the door of Watty's office. He'd arranged the meeting and Deacon was grateful to him. He didn't know what Watty said to convince her, but he always seemed to manage it. Rayna wouldn't see him often – it was too hard, she said – and insisted he be sober when she did. That usually wasn't easy.

He'd been keeping track, on a calendar, of his visits with her, and all the details she did share about the baby, and he knew the baby was due in about six weeks. He had the due date marked on his calendar too. _April 17__th__._ He breathed in and then raised his hand to knock.

* * *

Rayna had a bad day in the studio. For one thing, the baby was pressing into her such that her breathing was shallow and it made it hard to sing. She thought she was probably going to have to wait until after the baby was born to finish the album. She'd released a single – "This Love Ain't Big Enough" – and it was rising quickly on the charts.

The real reason she was having a bad day was because Deacon was coming by. It was hard to see him. Every time she did, she felt such despair and pain. She still loved him and she missed him, but she was with Teddy now. It was all so confusing. She had no interest in intimacy with Teddy right then, but when she saw Deacon, all those feelings washed over her like a waterfall. Her whole body yearned for him and for his touch. It was awkward and uncomfortable.

Watty had convinced her to see him this time. She'd pushed him away for weeks. The last time she'd seen him had been difficult. He had pleaded with her to let him be part of the baby's life but, when she continued to tell him no, he'd gotten angry. He'd grabbed her arm and gotten in her face, and it had scared her. All the reasons she'd had for marrying Teddy had come back to her, as she considered that this Deacon was not the man she wanted raising their child. She'd screamed at him to leave her alone, to stop calling her, to stop begging her to do what she'd never do. She had stormed off, shaking with her anger and her devastation.

But Watty had told her he was contrite and wanted to make things right. And she truly didn't want to erase him from her life. She was already so conflicted about all of it anyway. As she got closer and closer to her due date, it felt so much more real to her. Every time she felt the baby kick or move or hiccup, it reminded her that this little being growing inside her was part of him. Even if he wasn't going to be around, that part wouldn't change. Her heart felt heavy as she thought about that and wondered if she'd ever be at peace with her decisions.

She stood in Watty's office, where they often met because it was private, waiting for Deacon. The baby was a little restless and she rested her hand on her stomach where she felt the movements. _Deacon's baby._ A day didn't go by that she didn't think of it. That she didn't cry about it. He was who should be going through this with her, but he couldn't stay sober for long enough. Even now, when he knew she was pregnant with their baby, he was proving her right, that he couldn't get better.

When the knock came, she felt butterflies. She cleared her throat. "Come in," she called out, her voice shaky.

The door opened and there he stood.

* * *

He hadn't seen her in two months, so he was not prepared for how different she looked. He took a sharp breath in. She looked so…big. He realized he was staring and that she was looking at him a little shyly. She still took his breath away though. She was so pretty and she almost glowed.

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a small smile. "Hey."

"Close the door," she said, and he did. She took a few steps towards him. "How are you?"

"Hadn't had a drink in almost three weeks," he said.

She nodded. "Are you working?"

"Session work. Writing. I stay busy."

"Good." She couldn't seem to maintain eye contact and he didn't know if that was good or bad. "Um, you wanna sit?" She gestured towards the couch.

He nodded. "Sure." He followed her over and they sat, not touching. She turned towards him, while he faced forward. After a moment he looked at her. "You look…different."

She smiled. "I guess." She sat with her hands folded on her knees. "Um, everything's going okay. The baby's doing fine, right on target."

He looked at her and nodded, then looked away. "That's good."

She fidgeted with her fingers. "It's a girl, Deacon," she said softly.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with emotion. "Really?" She nodded and he smiled. "I bet you're real happy about that."

"I just want a healthy baby. And she is."

He rubbed his face. He felt overwhelmed. A daughter. His little girl. He felt his heart turn over. "Will you…will you let me see her?"

Rayna caught her breath. "We talked about that, Deacon. You know Teddy and I don't think it's a good idea."

He bristled at Teddy's name. He looked at her with a scowl. "But she's my daughter, Rayna. At least let me see her. She won't even know…you know."

She sighed and then she grimaced, moving her hand to her stomach.

"You okay?" he asked, a worried look on his face.

She nodded and then smiled. "She's kicking me." She bit her lip. "You want to feel?"

His eyes got really wide. "Really?" She nodded and reached for his hand. She pressed it against her stomach and he felt tiny kicks. He spread his hand out and smiled, as he felt his daughter moving. As he touched Rayna for the first time in a long time. He felt his breath catch in his throat. "Wow," he said, his eyes tearing up.

She smiled back at him as they sat, Deacon's hand on her stomach and hers covering his. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her.

* * *

Rayna was startled at first by the kiss. Feeling his lips on hers felt so good. She had missed this. She didn't want him to stop kissing her. She didn't want him to stop touching her. She felt herself give in to the kiss, opening her mouth to his. In that moment, she forgot she was married to someone else. This was Deacon, the man she'd loved since she was sixteen years old, the person who knew her better than anyone else, who understood her.

"Oh, Ray, I love you so much," he murmured against her lips.

And then her eyes flew open and she pulled back. She was horrified at what she'd just done. She quickly stood up and moved away from him. She had so many emotions running through her. Anger, hurt, embarrassment, confusion. She was struggling to breathe. "You can't do this, Deacon," she said finally, her voice shaky. "We agreed on this. We decided we would do what was best for the baby. You know that."

Deacon scowled at her, pushing himself up from the couch. "No, we didn't. _You_ decided. You've always decided everything in our relationship!"

Rayna shook her head. "That's not true," she said.

Deacon took a step towards her. "Yes, it is. _You_ made all the rules in our relationship. _You_ decided to send me to rehab all those times. _You_ decided not to let me be a father to my own child. And now you're telling me I can't even be a part of _your_ life anymore."

Rayna took several steps back, towards the door. She couldn't do this anymore, to herself or her baby. She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "That's not true, Deacon," she choked out. "Most of that was because you couldn't stop drinking. And you know that." She swallowed hard. "This has to be _done_. Whatever there is between us still has to be done. I'm married to Teddy. We're having this baby. I need you to accept that. Please don't make me sorry that I let you have any involvement at all."

Suddenly Deacon looked defeated. His eyes dissolved into that sad, puppy dog look that always undid her. "Please don't shut me out, Ray," he whispered. "Please."

She swiped at the tears in her eyes. "I can't do this anymore," she said quietly, as she picked up her purse. Then she turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind her.

She stood leaning against the wall for a moment, struggling to breathe, tears running down her cheeks. She fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses. When her hand wrapped around them, she quickly pulled them out and put them on, hoping it would mask the pain in her eyes as she hurriedly walked out of the studio.

* * *

Deacon watched her leave and slowly sank back down on the couch, lowering his head into his hands. He felt like he'd lost everything. The woman he loved, the life they had, the life they could have had. And his child. He wanted to be the man she wanted him to be, but he couldn't figure out how to make it work. He sighed.

It seemed that no matter what he did, it wasn't enough. Every time he'd come back from rehab, she'd watch him like a hawk. She constantly talked to him about going to his meetings, working his program. She was always checking up on him, never wanting him to be out of her sight. He wondered now if it was because she didn't have faith in him. It felt like a vicious circle – she didn't have faith in him and then he'd prove to her she was justified in that. He'd end up in a bar or passed out in a hotel room or in a jail cell, and she'd rescue him, but it was always at a cost. The anger, the fights, the disappointment in her eyes, the sense that she just felt resigned to this life of pain.

He felt tears in his eyes that he'd fucked it up again. He just thought he'd seen something in her eyes, in her face, when she let him feel the baby move. Something that said they were still connected. But she pushed him away. Again. Told him he had no place in her life. He scowled as he thought about it.

_Fuck this!_ He got up from the couch and stormed out of Watty's office, down the hall, and out the door. He practically ran to his truck and then pealed out of the parking lot, looking for the closest bar.

* * *

Rayna gently laid Maddie down in her crib. She smiled as she ran her fingers gently over her daughter's back. Maddie was two weeks old and Teddy had gone back to work, leaving her alone for the first time with the baby. As helpful as Teddy had been, she was relieved that he was gone. Ever since the day Maddie was born, it had been hard. Hard to cover up her feelings, hard to keep from crying.

It wasn't Maddie – she loved her daughter more than life itself. She loved holding her and feeding her and dressing her in the cute little outfits she'd received at her baby showers. It wasn't even Teddy – although his hovering drove her a little crazy, he had been wonderful with Maddie and with her. She couldn't have asked for more. It was Deacon.

She'd have to decide if she would let Deacon see Maddie. He'd asked to, of course. She hadn't seen him since that last time in Watty's office, when he'd kissed her. It had made everything feel so much more complicated than it had needed to be. She'd tried to put him out of her mind after that. Focused on getting ready for the baby to be born and focused on Teddy and their marriage.

But the minute they put Maddie in her arms, Rayna had seen Deacon. She couldn't have been more Deacon's daughter if she'd tried. She had come out screaming and Teddy had been the one to calm her, before letting Rayna hold her. Teddy told her later that he'd fallen in love with her the minute he'd held her, that it was a love like nothing he'd ever known. But she was still Deacon's, plain and simple, and Rayna couldn't forget that.

When Rayna had looked down at her daughter's face, she saw Deacon's eyes. She saw the little furrow between her brow, so like her father's. She ran her hand gently over the silky soft dark hair on Maddie's head, just like Deacon's. She'd leaned over and kissed her daughter gently on the forehead and nearly wept from the pain of it all.

She remembered looking up into Teddy's face and seeing the pride there. And the love, both for Maddie and for her. _She_ didn't deserve it, she knew that. Maddie did, but she didn't. There hadn't been a day that had gone by that she hadn't ached for Deacon. Even while she pushed him away, it had nearly killed her to do it.

She had cried throughout her labor. Teddy thought it was the pain, and it was, but not the pain he thought. Or maybe he suspected. She was sure that he could sense that her feelings for Deacon weren't over. She was sure that he died a little inside each day, knowing she was carrying Deacon's child. But he had been kind and gentle, loving and caring. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve him.

But she would make this work. For Maddie's sake, she would make this work. She really didn't know, for sure, what they would do about Deacon. Already, in her head, she was trying to figure out how you told a child that the father she'd always known wasn't her father after all. Now that she was faced with this impossible situation, she wasn't at all sure what the right answer was.

She felt wetness on the back of her hand and refocused on the present. She still cried every day, usually when she was alone with Maddie, like now. _Oh, Deacon, this should have been us. We should have brought her home to our little East Nashville house. We should be singing to her, little lullabies in our perfect harmony. It should have been us._

* * *

Deacon opened his eyes and looked around gingerly. His mouth tasted like vomit and whiskey. It felt like a sledgehammer was hitting his head over and over. He slowly realized he was naked in the bed. He slowly turned his head to his left, feeling like he was going to puke all over the bed. Someone was laying in the bed next to him. Someone with long blonde hair, rolled on her side with her back to him. He wondered who the hell she was and where the hell he'd found her.

He wondered how he got here, wherever here was. And how long he'd been here. The last thing he remembered was trying to call Rayna, again, and her not answering. And then Coleman telling him to let it go. That had pissed him off. And he'd pushed him away and gotten in his truck and started driving. He had pulled into a bar and had a drink. And another and then another and then another. He couldn't remember how many others or even how long ago that was. He had no idea what day it was or how much time he'd lost.

He pushed back the sheet and forced himself to sit up. His head felt like it was going to explode and his stomach lurched. He swallowed hard and took several deep breaths to calm his stomach. He slowly got up and found his clothes on the floor. Every time he leaned over to pick something up, he thought he was going to puke or pass out or both, but he stayed focused. He got dressed and then checked his wallet. It looked like his money was still there, his credit card and drivers' license. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed, feeling like he was going to black out. He opened his eyes and looked around the fleabag motel room, littered with empty liquor bottles and plastic cups. A bra was laying on the chest of drawers and lace panties were on the desk lamp. He looked back over his shoulder at the woman lying naked in the bed. He held his breath as she made a slight movement, but she didn't wake up. He breathed out quietly, found his keys and made his way to the door.

He looked back just briefly as he closed the door. He had no idea who the woman was.

He found his truck, parked at the far end of the parking lot. He felt his stomach roll aga in and he fell to his knees and threw up in the grass. He stayed that way for a moment, his eyes closed, breathing slowly. Then he opened his eyes, wiped off his mouth, got up off the ground and got in his truck. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. There was a small bottle of whiskey, half full. _Thank God._ He sat back, screwed off the cap and took a deep swallow. He took another, wiping his mouth again, then recapped the bottle and put it back in the compartment.

He started the truck and turned on the radio. The tail end of Rayna's song "It's My Life" was on and as the song finished, the DJ came on and said, "That was the Queen of Country Rayna Jaymes, who just welcomed the new Princess of Country yesterday morning. Congrats to Rayna and her husband and their new baby girl."


	4. Chapter 4

Rayna had just put Maddie down for a nap. She wandered into the kitchen and put a kettle on for tea. She opened up the cabinet and got out a mug and a box of tea bags. She set the box on the counter and opened it, trying to decide what kind of tea she wanted. She settled on an Earl Grey and dropped the tea bag in her mug, waiting for the water to boil.

She'd been home for a month, after her first tour since Maddie was born and her extended maternity leave. She'd been fortunate that the album she'd finished just after Maddie's birth had gone triple platinum, with five singles hitting radio and three number ones. That plus radio and TV interviews kept her in the public's mind while she wasn't touring. She hadn't really planned to stay home with Maddie for a year, but she hated the thought of leaving her daughter behind. She was too little to go out on the road and Rayna wanted to spend every minute she could with her. When Maddie turned one, she'd taken the little girl with her and toured for fifteen months. It had been good to be back out on the road.

She smiled as she thought of her daughter. She had been a good baby, slept well, ate well. She was quiet, almost introspective, although she couldn't imagine what a baby could be introspective about. She did have a temper, though, one that didn't come out often, but when it did, it was explosive. She often thought how much Maddie reminded her of Deacon. And when that happened, it inevitably led to thinking about him and wondering where he was.

Deacon had left Nashville sometime after he'd come to the house to see Maddie. Rayna had debated the wisdom of that for days, but she finally decided it was the right thing to do. So, while Teddy was at work, Deacon came to the house and spent time with their daughter. It had been emotional for both of them and had, predictably, caused Deacon to beg her, yet again, to let him have a part in Maddie's life. Instead she'd given him the agreement to sign that said Maddie would be known as Teddy's daughter, a moot point, since Teddy's name was already on Maddie's birth certificate as her father. But it also said that Deacon wasn't to contact her, that it would be Maddie's choice when she was old enough. Teddy had convinced her to leave the wording around that intentionally vague and Deacon had been too hurt to read the agreement before signing it.

And then he was gone. What she didn't realize right away was that he'd left Nashville. She'd been so caught up in being a new mama, that weeks went by before she noticed she hadn't heard from him. She tried not to worry about it, hoping he'd taken her words to heart and was moving on, letting her raise Maddie with Teddy without interfering. But then she started to hear that people were asking about him, mostly via Watty and Bucky. Watty, in particular, started to be alarmed that he couldn't locate him.

When Maddie was four months old, Watty had come to visit. He'd said he was there to see her and the baby, but she thought later that his real reason was to let her know that Deacon was missing.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, and then Watty sat forward, leaning on the table. "Rayna, have you heard from Deacon at all?" he asked.

She frowned. "No. But I didn't really expect to." That wasn't completely true, but she wasn't going to say that out loud. "Why?"

Watty looked worried. "He hasn't been seen around town. Nobody that he's worked with in the past has seen him. I went by his house and it doesn't look like anyone's been there in a while. There were some notices on the door about utilities being cut off."

Rayna felt her stomach roll over. She felt nauseous. "Surely he's somewhere." She swallowed hard. "Have you checked out the bars he liked to go to?" She hated to think that he had fallen back into that life.

Watty shook his head. "No one's seen him. Not since May. I checked with his sponsor and he hasn't heard from him either."

Rayna frowned. "Why wouldn't Cole have called me?"

Watty gave her a sad smile. "I don't think he wanted to worry you. Or bother you. I wouldn't either, except that someone was asking about him for some work and when I couldn't track him down, it concerned me."

Rayna felt her mouth go dry and her anxiety level ratcheted up. Her heart started to pound. He'd been so distraught when he left the house that day after he'd seen Maddie. _In May._ She felt like she was going to be sick. "Oh, dear God, Watty," she whispered. "Do you think…?" She couldn't say it out loud.

"I hope not. But I'm worried. I've tried calling him and his phone's been disconnected. I did get the cell phone company to tell me that the bill hasn't been paid, but that's all I know."

Rayna felt tears fill her eyes and start to roll down her face. "Oh, my God," she murmured. "Oh please don't let anything have happened to him."

* * *

The days and weeks and months had marched on and there was still no sign of Deacon. Rayna was terribly worried about him, but there was nothing she could do. Watty continued to put out feelers and ask around, but he was coming up empty. Rayna began to come to the conclusion that he was dead. Something she'd long feared would happen to him. It was the only reason she could think of that he hadn't tried to reach out to her.

When Maddie turned one, she had decided she had to stop waiting. And that was when she went back out on the road, which took her mind off the gnawing fear she had deep inside. As the second year passed with no word about him, she had finally stopped thinking about it so much and just resigned herself to the fact that he was gone and they would never see him. Once in a while, she'd find herself distraught over it, blaming herself for pushing him away so harshly. Watty told her it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't quite believe that.

When the water came to a boil, she poured it over the tea bag and waited for it to steep. Then she added two packages of sweetner and took the mug over to the couch in the den. She sat cross legged on the couch and sipped the tea, closing her eyes and letting the calm run over her. Her phone buzzed, interrupting the solitude, and she opened her eyes, set down her mug, and picked it up. _Watty._ She almost let it go to voice mail, but instead she answered. "Hey, Watty," she said warmly.

"I found him, Rayna," Watty said, without any preamble.

For a moment, she couldn't catch her breath. "What?" she croaked.

"He's in Austin, Texas."

She felt the blood seem to rush to her head and it made her feel a little lightheaded. "You mean, he's alive?"

"Yeah." Rayna dropped the phone in her lap and put her face in her hands and wept. "Rayna?" came Watty's voice from the phone. "Rayna?"

She picked up the phone and put it back to her ear. "You're sure?" she asked, still sobbing.

"I'm gonna go out there to be sure, but yeah, it sounds like Deacon." He paused. "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thanks, Watty," she said. After she hung up, she laid down on the couch and cried, tears of both relief and joy. She hadn't realized how devastated she'd been until she learned he'd been found, now two and a half years later. She didn't even care what shape he was in, she was just incredibly grateful he was alive.

* * *

Watty left the next day. Rayna felt like she was at loose ends. Teddy could tell something was on her mind and asked her about it, but she told him it was nothing. That she was just having a hard time taking a break after having been so focused on her tour for nearly a year and a half.

After Teddy left for work, she parked Maddie in front of the TV with a movie and sat down with a notebook and started to write. She'd had words flying around in her head ever since Watty had called the day before and she knew if she didn't put them down on paper they would either vanish or torture her forever.

She kept her eye on the clock. She didn't know how long it would take Watty to get to Austin, or how long it would take him to get to wherever Deacon was, and if he'd have to wait to talk to him. She was nervous, anxious, agitated. For once, she wished that Maddie demanded more attention so that it would keep her mind off what was happening down in Texas. But she kept writing, almost mindlessly putting all the words that came into her head on the pages in front of her.

By the time Maddie's movie was over, Rayna had dumped everything out of her brain and onto three sheets of paper, full of scratch-outs and rewording. She felt drained, like everything that had been in her heart was now committed to paper. She got up to turn off the movie and found Maddie sound asleep. She picked her daughter up and carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the "big girl" bed that Maddie had recently graduated to.

She sat on the edge of the bed and lightly ran her hand over her daughter's back. Even though she had no idea what the future would hold and how this all might play out, she was grateful that Deacon was alive. That Maddie had not lost her father after all. Suddenly in her head, she heard a melody, and she stood up abruptly and walked quickly into the front room where her piano was, bringing her notebook with her. The song practically wrote itself and she almost couldn't keep up with what was spinning in her head.

* * *

Everyone told her she should steer clear of Deacon. Tandy told her he wasn't good enough for her. Watty told her that he had a troubled past. Lamar told her he had ruined her for any other man. And even Bucky, later, counseled her not to tie her future too tightly to him. No one understood him the way she did. No one understood that he and the music were the same for her. No one understood that he knew her in a way no one else ever had.

_No one heard her call his name / No one heard the sound she made / They wouldn't have liked it much anyway / To know that she still loves him_

_No one understands this love / No one ever will / Till his dying day / Not even he himself can change this / She loves him still_

She really did fall in love with him practically from the moment she laid eyes on him. She hardly paid attention to the fact that his clothes were shabby and his hair looked like a blind man had cut it. There was a gentleness in his eyes that drew her in. When he smiled at her, she fell even harder. It was a shy smile but it lit up his face. And when he picked up a guitar and started to play, she knew she was gone. Even at the age of nineteen he was amazing. He had a way of drawing you in, bringing a song alive.

Watty introduced them and she remembered feeling a pull towards him that she'd never felt before. She knew she was under his spell, but she also knew, even at the age of sixteen, that he would never take advantage of that. Deacon and the music, there was no difference. The moment they started collaborating, she knew she'd found something very special.

Deacon knew her, understood her, in a way no one else ever did. Tandy came close, but Deacon could read her better than anyone. She could never fool him, never keep anything hidden from him. He became everything to her – her love, her family, her best friend. She'd never known someone could be all of those things and when he left, and she thought he was gone forever, her heart had been broken.

_I miss my friend / I miss the sound of his laughter / She remembers him saying / Well, where are you going / Oh, and just what is it that you are after_

Although their love had been big and all-encompassing, they had also dealt each other immeasurable pain over the years they were together. And even though most of it revolved around Deacon's drinking, there were countless times when she'd pushed him aside, been indifferent, given up. She'd hurt him as much as he'd hurt her. She could never turn her back on him though. Until she did. But even then, she couldn't quite let go.

_No one understands this man / No one ever will / Till his dying day / Not even he himself can change that / She loves him still_

She'd started dating Teddy Conrad after she'd left Deacon that last time. After things got so out of control, so horrible, that she could barely function herself. She had looked at herself in the mirror one day and had been stunned. Her eyes looked dead, the dark circles made her look haggard. She could hardly eat, slept poorly, always worried about Deacon. And then something inside her snapped. _I can't do this anymore. I'm killing myself for a man that's probably going to kill himself one day._

She moved out of the house, into an apartment. She let Tandy fix her up with an old grad school friend. Teddy was a nice man, well-dressed, well-mannered. _Not a drunk._ He had a solid job and a nice, kind smile. He treated her like a princess, opening doors for her, pulling out her chair, holding her hand. It was nice. It was safe.

And then after that one time, that one mistake, he'd forgiven her and married her and loved her and her baby. She wanted to love him, the way she loved Deacon. She knew now that would never happen, but she was grateful to him and she did feel love for him. She owed him so much. So she worked at it. She worked hard at it, and bit by bit, she found herself letting go. Letting go of the pain and the numbness and the hurt. Letting go of Deacon. Letting Teddy in.

But now she knew he was alive.

_So, how are you / Have you learned to deal with this / Oh no, she says / I have not learned / You see, I cannot deal without him / And the flame still burns / The flame burns on_

She wasn't sure how to feel. She was grateful, of course, that he was alive, but it didn't change anything. She wondered how he ended up in Austin. She wondered if he had thought of her at all. Clearly he'd taken her words to heart.

_No one understands this love / No one ever will / Till his dying day / Not even he himself can change that / She was heard to say / She loves him still_

She wondered if he'd want to come back to Nashville now. It probably wasn't a good idea. Coleman had told her she needed to let him go. That the only way he'd make his own way was if she let him go.

_And the sands of time / Like shattering glass go past her / She still loves him / Oh no / They wouldn't have liked it much anyway / But she still loves him / And the sands of time / Like shattering glass go past her / Straight back to the sea / Straight back to the sea  
_

* * *

It was late when her phone buzzed. She snatched it up, so quickly that it caused Teddy to turn and look at her. It was Watty. She smiled apologetically at Teddy. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I need to take this." She jumped up and started walking towards the back of the house. "Hey, Watty," she answered, when she was out of Teddy's earshot. Her voice was shaky with anticipation.

"He's here, Rayna," Watty confirmed. "He's not in good shape, but he's here."

She nearly collapsed, feeling both intense joy and immense heartbreak. She was having a hard time speaking over the tears. "Where…are…you…now?" she struggled to say, fighting to keep herself under control.

"We're at the airport, waiting for my plane to get refueled and a flight plan. He agreed to go to the rehab facility in Colorado."

Rayna took a deep breath. "Has he been there all this time?"

"Looks that way. He's been playing in bars and clubs all over town, making enough to stay alive." He sighed. "He didn't realize how long he'd been gone. I think that, more than anything, was what made him realize he was in really serious trouble."

She couldn't stop crying. She knew she should be a hundred kinds of angry with him, but at that moment all she could think about was the fact that he was alive, that he wasn't dead somewhere where they'd never find him. "Put him in the longest program you can, Watty. I want him to get well this time. He needs to know this is his last shot at this."

"Believe me, he understands." He watched Deacon, sitting slumped in one of the chairs in the airport lobby. "I'll be back in Nashville tomorrow and I'll call you."

"Thank you, Watty," she whispered. "Thank you for not giving up."

* * *

When Rayna finished the song, she sat back and looked at Watty. He was leaning back in his chair, his elbow on the arm of the chair and his hand curled over his mouth. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally he sat forward. "That's a beautiful song, Rayna," he said, and she smiled. "But not for the album."

Rayna frowned. "Why not?"

"It doesn't fit the rest of it, for one thing," he said. "Plus, it's about Deacon."

Rayna looked away. "It's just a song, Watty." He was silent. She looked at him. "So it never gets radio play. Not every song does. I want it on the album."

Watty looked thoughtful. "Everyone will ask about it, Rayna. It's too obvious."

Rayna looked at him, steely-eyed. "I want it on the album." She hadn't talked to him about Deacon since he came back from Texas. Once she'd gotten used to the idea that Deacon had resurfaced and was alive, she had put him in a little box, wrapped it up tightly, and put it in the back of the closet of her mind. He wasn't part of her life anymore, so while she was grateful he was okay, it didn't change anything.

He gave her a tight smile. "It's your album."

"Yes, it is." The silence between them felt strained for a moment. She looked down. "Thanks, Watty."

"Of course." He knew her thanks was about more than letting her have her way about a song, even though he knew she would never say it out loud. He knew this was painful for her and he guessed this was her way of acknowledging her truth.

* * *

In the end, the song didn't attract as much attention as Watty had feared it might. Truthfully, Rayna knew it was a risk, both artistically and personally. And over time, any small amount of interest faded. Until now. When she was approached to do _CMT: By Invitation_, she had a fair amount of freedom to select what she would perform. But she was specifically asked to do "She Loves Him Still" and she agreed to do it. She thought they might ask her about it, so she was prepared. She knew what she would say.

* * *

Deacon sat down in the great room of his lake house and turned on the TV. Blair was on a girls' weekend trip to Charleston and he was feeling at loose ends. He flipped through the channels and was surprised to see Rayna pop up on the screen. He laid down the remote.

"Rayna, this next song you're going to do for us didn't really get a whole lot of airplay, did it?"

Rayna chuckled. "It got no airplay, actually. But I had other songs on that album that became big sellers, so this was one that was for me. I think all artists put some songs on their albums that are for them and for the really loyal fans. This was the first album I made where I wrote every song and this one was especially important to me."

"So, the rumor was that you wrote this song for your long time love, Deacon Claybourne, after he'd been gone from Nashville for a while. Is that true?"

Rayna looked away, her smile fading a little. Then she looked back, her gaze firm. "It's a song for every woman who's had a great love. That one person it's hard to fully let go of. That's who I wrote the song for."

The lights went down, a single spotlight focused on Rayna, sitting on a stool. Two guitar players were behind her. As the melody started, Deacon ran his hand over his mouth and breathed in.

_No one heard her call his name / No one heard the sound she made / They wouldn't have liked it much anyway / To know that she still loves him_

_No one understands this love / No one ever will / Till his dying day / Not even he himself can change this / She loves him still_

_**The song in this chapter is "She Loves Him Still" by Stevie Nicks. I will be posting a companion to this soon from Deacon's POV.**_


	5. Chapter 5

Deacon felt himself come up from a deep, dreamless sleep. He reached up and rubbed his face with his hands before opening his eyes. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the bright sunlight in the room. He breathed in deeply. He thought, as he always did upon awakening every day, that he was grateful to wake up, to be able to think clearly, that the only gnawing in his stomach was hunger for food, not the aftermath of a drunken binge, and that he could remember what he'd done the day before and that it wasn't a vast black hole he couldn't dig out of.

He'd been here ninety days, in this place outside of Denver, Colorado. It was a peaceful place, with views of the Rocky Mountains in the distance, where the sky seemed vast and expansive. Although most of the details of the extensive and debilitating detox had mercifully become less clear, the memory of the wretchedness of it had stayed with him and he was thankful every day to have gotten past it. _For the last time._ He promised himself that every day.

He vaguely remembered the day Watty found him in the honky-tonk he'd been playing in for he couldn't remember how long. He vividly remembered the disappointment on Watty's face, after the initial look of relief. He hadn't really understood that until Watty told him he'd been looking for him for two and a half years. Two and a half _years_. He'd had no idea. He'd lost track of a lot of time, time he'd never get back. It had rocked him to realize that.

When Watty had told him he'd be in this place for six months, back when they were sitting in the FBO waiting for his plane to be fueled, he'd threatened to bolt. He'd never had to stay that long. That was when Watty had told him how long it had been and that had stopped him cold. This was his last chance, he knew that. Even though Watty hadn't told him, he was certain Rayna was paying for this. And he was also certain she wouldn't do it again. He also knew, deep down inside, that this was probably his last, best chance to recover, to figure out how to make sobriety work, once and for all. Because if he didn't now, he was convinced he'd end up dead.

He still fought it though. After detox, he was angry. He was angry at Watty for finding him, angry at Rayna for putting him here, but mostly angry at her for ripping his life to shreds. It had taken him time to accept his own part in how he got here, and that was where he was today. Finally he'd reached acceptance and it was time for the real work to begin.

He'd gotten a package three days earlier, from Watty. It was a phone, to replace the one that had vanished along with him two and a half years before. He'd only used it once, to call his sister Beverly, who'd used the opportunity to cuss him out for letting her think he was dead and then hanging up on him. There was no one else to call.

Also in the box was a picture of Maddie, now two and a half years old. He'd wept as he ran his fingers over her sweet face. She was smiling at the camera, dressed in a little cowgirl outfit, with a tiny pair of boots. Her hair was a shade lighter than his and laid softly on her shoulders. He thought he saw a little bit of himself in her but he also knew she was as pretty as her mama. He didn't know how Watty had gotten it, but he was grateful for it. He kept it taped to the mirror in his room, where he could see it often.

Like every other time he'd been in rehab, his days were pretty regimented. There were group sessions as well as private ones. But he also had a fair amount of free time now. His private therapist had suggested, in the beginning, since he was a songwriter, that he write. Write about how he was feeling, what he was going through. He'd done some of that, but he'd also written letters. Letters that had never been sent, would never be sent, to Beverly. To his niece Scarlett. To Rayna. To Maddie. He'd written a lot to Maddie, thinking that maybe, one day, when they finally met, he could share some of it with her. He knew that a lot of what he'd gone through wasn't appropriate for a child, probably wouldn't even be for a teenager, and maybe he'd never give any of that to her.

Watty had gotten everything he had at the boarding house and put it in a box for him. That had been delivered too, with the phone and the picture. Deacon found probably thirty notebooks filled with lyrics and melodies, things he'd written during that two and a half year haze. Some of it he remembered, much of it he did not. He had started playing what he found. Some of it was good, some of it was mediocre but salvageable, and a lot was garbage.

He and Tony, his private therapist, had talked about that one day. "Didn't you tell me that after you leave here, your plan is to get back into the music business?" he'd asked.

Deacon had nodded. "Yeah."

"Can you use what you have? Can you build on it?"

Deacon had shaken his head with a rueful smile. "A lot of it's really dark stuff. Really sad ass stuff. I don't know if that's what I should be doing."

"But it's your story. Some of it, anyway." Tony had leaned back and contemplated for a minute. "Just take a deep breath and figure out what can move you forward. What can tell your story."

* * *

He took a walk out to the lake on the property. He smiled a little to himself when he thought about it. It was more like a manmade pond than a lake, although they referred to it that way. It made him think about the cabin he had up on the lake in Kentucky. The place he'd bought after he got out of rehab the first time. He'd bought it for Rayna, a place for them to spend the rest of their lives. He guessed it was just sitting there now, getting overgrown. When he got out of here, he'd need to check on it.

He took a deep breath. Watty had told him, when he'd brought him here, that he shouldn't go back to Nashville. Not right away. He thought about that.

"_Deacon, you and Rayna are like poison to each other. You know that. It's why things are as they are," Watty said, frowning at the younger man._

_Deacon had scowled back. "You're not in charge of me, Watty. I can do whatever I damn well please."_

"_You've been gone for a long time. A lot has changed. Why put yourself back in a place that will just drag you down?"_

_Deacon had shaken his head. "You don't mean a place, you mean Rayna. But it ain't just Rayna that's in Nashville, it's Maddie."_

"_Deacon, leave it be. For now. I think the best thing you can do for all of you is to go back to Austin. When you're finished in Colorado, go back to Austin. I'll get you set up and you can make a good life there. Build your career back up."_

_Deacon had rubbed his face with his hands. He looked back at Watty with red-rimmed eyes and sorrow written all over his face. "Nashville's my home, Watty. Rayna and Maddie are my family."_

_Watty had shaken his head. "Teddy's their family now, Deacon. She's built a life with him and it's a good one. He's a good husband and a good father. He's taking good care of them. She's moved on in her career and she's recovered from the mess y'all went through." He'd sighed deeply then. "She cares about you, Deacon, but she's moved on. Now it's time for you to do the same."_

It was hard to think about not going back to Nashville, but he was coming to the conclusion that Watty was probably right. He didn't like thinking about not being close to Maddie, but he didn't trust himself being back in a place that had been the site of so much pain and dysfunction. Austin was a good music city. A lot like Nashville actually. Maybe it really was time for him to move on.

* * *

He'd be leaving this place in less than a month. He felt stronger than he'd ever felt coming out of rehab. He'd adjusted to the idea of going back to Austin and that actually made him feel like he could do this. Finally. He'd done a lot of writing. He had a lot of songs he could use when he got back into the music world. The only thing he was struggling with was the reality of leaving Maddie and Rayna behind. The thought of doing all this without Rayna scared him a little. Although he knew he'd managed on his own in Austin, he wasn't sure if he could truly leave her behind. It had become the primary subject of his sessions with Tony.

"Deacon, talk to me about Rayna. About that relationship. About leaving."

Deacon took a deep breath and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face. Then he looked up. "Rayna was all I had for a lotta years. She was my family. She was always there for me. She helped me get through all the rough shit I went through. She pulled me through even when she shouldn't have."

"I know you have a daughter together. What was it that made you leave Nashville then?"

Deacon paused, thinking about that. His eyes burned with unshed tears. "She didn't want me there. She told me I wasn't cut out to be a father. And she was right. I wasn't. So she married someone else and she told me I needed to go. To leave them be. Let her raise our girl up with this other guy, who could be a better daddy."

"How did you feel?"

"I was pissed. It hurt. I'd had enough." He worked his lip.

"Did you think you'd go back?"

He shook his head and laughed just a little. "I don't know. I knew I had to go. I couldn't stay and watch that." He looked up at the therapist. "But I didn't go back, did I?"

_I left out in a cloud of taillights and dust / Swore I wasn't coming back, said I'd had enough / Saw you in the rear view standing, fading from my life / But I wasn't turnin' 'round / No not this time_

* * *

"So what do you think you should have done?"

Deacon shook his head. "I don't know. I wanted to fight for her. For them. I loved her. She was my whole life. But I hurt her. Bad. Over and over. I didn't want to. I never meant to. If I could've done it different, I would have. Because I loved her. And because of that baby girl."

"Why do you think it was such a struggle to keep from drinking? If you loved her and you had a child together?"

Deacon sighed. "Every day I wonder why I couldn't make it work. I had everything. I had Rayna, I had a good life. We made good music together. I guess she should have kicked me to the curb a million times. Maybe she should have. All I know is that she was always there. I could count on her. Even if I screwed up."

_But don't think I don't think about it / Don't think I don't have regrets / Don't think it don't get to me / Between the work and the hurt and the whiskey / Don't think I don't wonder 'bout / Could've been, should've been all worked out / I know what I felt, and I know what I said / But don't think I don't think about it_

* * *

"You're going to be leaving here soon. What's next?"

Deacon rubbed his face. "Going back to Austin, looks like."

"How do you feel about that?"

Deacon shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It seems like it would be better for me if I did. Rayna's moved on. I don't really have anything to go back to in Nashville. I've been gone almost three years, so I'd have to start all over again anyway, so might as well do that somewhere new."

"And what's your plan?"

Deacon breathed in. "Watty, the guy that brought me here, that got me started all those years ago, he's got contacts in Austin. So he'll hook me up and we'll see what happens from there." He raised his eyebrows. "And then I'll go to my meetings, work my program. Do the work. Stay better." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "I wish I had a crystal ball sometimes, to know what would have happened if I done things different. I don't even know if Rayna thinks about me now. She's got a family now, what she always wanted. I don't know if I coulda given her that. So, you know, you just gotta live with the hand you're dealt."

_When we make choices, we gotta live with them / Heard you found a real good man and you married him / I wonder if sometimes I cross your mind / Where would we be today / If I never drove that car away?_

* * *

Watty was waiting when Deacon walked out the front door, carrying his duffel bag, his sunglasses on. He stopped for a moment when he cleared the driveway canopy. The sun was out, it was a warm day. The slight breeze caught his hair. He breathed in the clean air. He felt focused and clear. Then he started walking towards Watty.

"Hey, Watty," he said when he reached the older man. He put out his hand and Watty took it, shaking it firmly.

"Hey, Deacon," Watty said, with a smile. "You look good."

Deacon gave him a tight smile. "I feel good."

"I'm glad to hear it." He gestured towards the limo. "Ready?"

"Yep. As ready as I'll ever be." He walked over to the car and opened the door, throwing in the duffel, then climbing in. Watty got in on the other side and the car accelerated out of the drive, heading for the private airport.

_But don't think I don't think about it / Don't think I don't have regrets / Don't think it don't get to me / Between the work and the hurt and the whiskey / Don't think I don't wonder 'bout / Could've been, should've been all worked out / Yeah I know what I felt, and I know what I said / But don't think I don't think about it_

_But don't think I don't think about it / But don't think I don't think about it / Don't think I don't have regrets / Don't think it don't get to me / Between the work and the hurt and the whiskey / Don't think I don't wonder 'bout / Could've been, should've been all worked out / I know what I felt, and I know what I said / But don't think I don't think about it / Don't think I don't_

* * *

When the invite came to perform on _Austin City Limits _in November of 2008, Deacon and the rest of the band members spent five minutes high-fiving each other and cheering, before settling down to map out their set list. It wasn't that they hadn't been invited before, but the timing hadn't worked until now. Although there were times when Deacon felt like he didn't deserve to be the name and face of the band, he always saw it as a collaborative undertaking. They worked together as a group, planning their tours, creating their set lists, and mapping out their albums.

When he'd first arrived in Nashville at the age of seventeen, his plan had been to be the next Merle Haggard, the next Johnny Cash. Things hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned. He'd gotten sidetracked, first by Rayna Jaymes, and then by a bottle of whiskey. As his life took a different turn, he'd given up on the idea of being the next Merle or Johnny. At first, it was willingly. He was happy to support Rayna and be part of her success. It was enough. She was more important than striking out on his own and their partnership had been so much more than he'd ever dreamed of. But later on, his dreams were derailed by his own past, his own legacy, his own weakness. Until he'd ended up, finally, at rock bottom in Austin, Texas.

He'd learned from his last stay in rehab that it typically took landing at rock bottom for any addict to be open to healing. He'd come to know that he'd never been at rock bottom before. He'd thought he had, but the reality was that his rock bottom came when he finally lost his soft landing. Rayna had always been there before, to prop him up, to be his safe place. He realized that she had kept him, not intentionally, from getting to the place where he could truly repair his life. Rock bottom was when he'd lost it all – Rayna, Maddie – and ended up having lost more than two years of his life barely surviving in Austin, Texas.

Staying in Austin had been the right thing to do. Staying away from Nashville had too. He wasn't ready for that yet, he wasn't strong enough for that yet. He wasn't sure when he would be, but he did know it wasn't yet. He'd rebuilt his life in Texas. He was finally a front man and he knew he'd been ready for it. His career had taken him to heights he'd never hoped to dream of, far beyond anything he'd even had with Rayna. She might still be the Queen of Country Music, but the Deacon Claybourne Band was surprisingly in that rarified air of the "greatest of all time". He was grateful and he hoped to never lose that sense of gratitude.

He was married now, and happy. Or at least he'd thought he was. Blair was young and blonde and high energy. She'd given him a new lease on life. She didn't know the old Deacon and so it had been healing to live a life of promise and potential, instead of looking back on all his failures and lapses. He had truly felt like he'd put all the old feelings behind him, until that night he'd turned on the TV and seen Rayna on that _By Invitation_ show. It had been nearly ten months ago, but he hadn't completely been able to shake it.

"_So, the rumor was that you wrote this song for your long time love, Deacon Claybourne, after he'd been gone from Nashville for a while. Is that true?"_

She had said it was not, but he'd seen a look on her face that told him otherwise. He knew her, probably better than she knew herself. And he'd known what the interviewer had asked her was true.

He had tried to push it aside. He had a wife, and he loved her. Really loved her. He had a good life now. Rayna was still married to Teddy. It made no sense. Except that he knew they were still connected. Even if they didn't want to be.

* * *

When they worked through the set list, he brought up a song they'd never released. One of the many he'd brought to the band with him, that he'd written from the detritus of his life before rehab, that had helped him put words to what he was feeling and finding a way out the other side. It had ultimately never fit on any of their albums, but he threw it out there as one of the many possibilities.

* * *

Rayna put the _Do Not Disturb_ sign on the door of her hotel suite, ordered some wine and appetizers, and turned on the TV. When she'd heard some of her band members mention that Deacon's band was going to be on Austin City Limits, she made a point of finding out the schedule. She had a free night in Pittsburgh and so she settled in to watch.

Her heart fluttered when he came out on stage with his band. He looked so good, like he did when she very first met him, before the alcohol came between them. He was older now, of course, but his eyes were clear and his smile was joyous. She'd seen pictures of him, of course, and video of his band, but she never ceased to be proud of him and all that he had accomplished in the past six years.

The band played most of their hits. "Breathe In", "Playing Tricks", "Rough Ridin'". She knew them all. He'd had an amazing career. The band had just won Entertainer of the Year, although they hadn't been in Nashville to receive the award. They never came to Nashville.

When they zoomed in on him, she saw the wedding ring on his left hand. Her heart hurt, although she had no right to feel that way. He had every right to be happy, but it hurt anyway. She wondered what his wife was like. If she made him happy, if she loved him the way he deserved to be loved. She felt tears in her eyes and she brushed them away.

She watched as he leaned into the mic. "So, this is something I wrote about six years ago or so. It's never made it to an album, but we thought we'd share it with you tonight. So let us know what you think." He smiled and the crowd went crazy.

She felt a lump grow in her throat as he sang. She quickly figured out that he must have written it when he was in rehab that last time. She closed her eyes as the tears streamed down her face.

_I left out in a cloud of taillights and dust / Swore I wasn't coming back, said I'd had enough / Saw you in the rear view standing, fading from my life / But I wasn't turnin' 'round / No not this time_

_But don't think I don't think about it / Don't think I don't have regrets / Don't think it don't get to me….  
_

_**The song in this chapter is "Don't Think I Don't Think About It" by Darius Rucker.**_


	6. Chapter 6

They were having a nice family vacation in Rosemary Beach. Rayna had a two week break on her tour and Teddy had convinced her to take a real vacation. She smiled to herself as she lay on the lounge chair by the pool. This was perfect actually. Teddy was keeping Maddie occupied while she relaxed in the sun. Her almost three and a half year old was having a blast in the pool with her little water wings, jumping into Teddy's arms. Their laughter warmed her heart.

She rolled over onto her stomach and peeked through her sunglasses at her husband and daughter. Then she sighed, thinking about the conversation she'd had with Teddy the night before, at dinner. They'd arranged a babysitter for Maddie and gone to a nice restaurant, one with white tablecloths and candles, and no kid meals.

_Rayna was sipping a glass of wine and Teddy had a tumbler of bourbon. He seemed distracted, running his fingers around the glass. She frowned slightly. "What's up, babe?" she asked._

_He looked up and cleared his throat. "I was thinking about, you know, our family." He cleared his throat again. "Expanding it."_

_Rayna's eyes widened. "Expanding it?" She felt her stomach turn over._

_He gave her a ghost of a smile. "Yeah. Having another baby." He sat up straighter, as though he'd gained some confidence by saying it out loud. "Maddie's the right age. They would be four years apart." He looked at her. "I want a baby, Rayna."_

_She looked down. "I don't know, Teddy. We've just gotten Maddie adjusted to my schedule. And taking time off is risky for me. Not dropping an album or touring can be career suicide."_

_Teddy's mouth formed a grim line. "Rayna, this is important to me. You know that. And I think Maddie should have a sibling." He paused. "I want this."_

_Rayna looked at him. He'd done so much for her. He'd taken on Maddie as his own and been a wonderful father. And he'd taken care of her too. Wasn't this a small price to pay, to give up an album or a tour? She smiled a little. "I wasn't expecting this," she said. "Let me sleep on it?"_

_He smiled, but the smiled didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sure. But I think it's time. We need to do this. For __our__ family."_

She hadn't slept well. If she was fair, she knew what he was asking wasn't out of line. But she also knew that this was partly to stake his claim. She'd told him about Deacon turning up and she knew that had rattled him a bit. He had relaxed during the time that Deacon was missing and he, even more than she, was sure Deacon was dead. Now that it was known that he wasn't, he was worried. Rayna knew that. He worried that he would lose Maddie. And her.

She had told him she had no plans to leave. She was satisfied with her life as it was. And she was. What she'd given up in raw passion, she'd more than made up for in a life that was no longer a rollercoaster. And even with having to replace Deacon in her band, her professional life had improved as well. She was more successful than ever and she knew a lot of that was because her focus was no longer distracted.

She'd thought of nothing but his request since dinner the night before, and it was that that had kept her awake the night before, tossing and turning, before she finally got up and sat out on the balcony. He'd been patient, but she knew she had to give him an answer.

She smiled again as she watched her husband and her daughter. "Catch me, Daddy!" Maddie shrieked.

"I'm right here, Maddie," he said patiently. "Go ahead and jump."

Maddie took a few steps back and then ran towards the edge of the pool. When she reached it, she launched herself towards Teddy, her high-pitched laughter filling the air. Teddy caught her just as she touched the water and then she would fling her arms around his neck.

Rayna felt a burning in her eyes. Every once in a while, she still looked at Maddie and it took her breath away how much the little girl looked like Deacon. It made her wonder sometimes, still, what life might have been like for the three of them. When she was still pregnant, she would imagine that their lives would be filled with music and laughter, hugs and kisses. She could see Deacon and her playing music for their daughter and then, when she was old enough, teaching her to play and sing with them. She sang to Maddie now, of course, and her daughter loved singing along with her, but it felt a little bittersweet.

But she liked the life she had. She and Teddy got along well, he was loving and caring. They were in the process of building a house on the outskirts of Belle Meade, on a beautiful plot of land with lots of trees and flowers. It would be finished by the time she finished this tour and it would be big enough for an SUV full of children. She was determined that it would be filled with love and family, where they'd make pancakes on weekend mornings and have movie nights and play in the pool, just like this. Whenever she thought of that life, she felt calm and serene. It felt like exactly the life she'd craved when she was young, a life without fighting, without upheaval, without pain.

She would tell Teddy that night she was ready for another child. One that would finish out their family.

* * *

Rayna knew she was pregnant when she woke up in Cincinnati and felt queasy. She lay in the bed and contemplated that. It had to have happened almost immediately after she and Teddy had started trying. He'd been thrilled when she told him she was ready. She had pushed past the vague feeling that she was making a mistake. She told herself it was just the idea of being pregnant on tour and having to postpone the next tour. She really didn't think it would happen so quickly, but now that it had, she needed to figure out how to deal with it.

She got up from the bed and made her way to the mini-bar. She opened it and pulled out a ginger ale, pouring it in a glass. She sat on the couch in the sitting area and sipped on it slowly, the trick she'd used when she was pregnant with Maddie. She would be back in Nashville in three weeks and she called to make an appointment with her doctor for a pregnancy test.

She put her hand on her stomach and thought about the fledgling life inside. This would be different than the last time. When she was pregnant with Maddie, her life was upside down. She still loved Deacon then and she was conscious every day that the baby she carried inside her was his. Even though Teddy wanted her to, she hadn't been able to shut him out of her life then, and that had made things so much more complicated. No matter if any of the physical aspects of pregnancy turned out to be similar, this pregnancy would be infinitely less stressful than the first, that she knew for sure.

She sighed. Thinking about being pregnant with Maddie made her think about that awful agreement with Deacon. Of course, she hadn't told Maddie that Deacon was her father. She was too young, there's no way she'd understand it. But she couldn't imagine how she'd even have that conversation or when would be the right time. Deacon was in Texas, which made things easier. She hadn't reached out to him either. All Watty had told her when he'd come back from picking Deacon up from rehab was that he was going back to Austin. They'd never talked again about him.

She wanted to be happy about this baby, but the truth was she felt ambivalent. When she'd known she was pregnant with Deacon's baby, it had, deep down, given her a feeling of such peace. Just knowing they'd created a life together; it was all she'd ever wanted. She couldn't say, in truth, that she wanted a baby with Teddy. But now she would be having one and she was saddened by her lack of enthusiasm for it. She thought that might change as she got farther along. At least she hoped so.

* * *

Rayna was sitting on the exam table, waiting for the test results. She knew what they would be. She'd missed another period. Her breasts were swollen and they hurt. She had nearly punched Teddy in the face the first night she was home from her tour, when he'd fondled them as he made love to her. She'd had to grit her teeth and get through it. She wasn't sure why she hadn't wanted to tell him then, but she had told herself she wanted to be absolutely certain before she broke the news. He hadn't even noticed the ever-so-slight pooch to her stomach. He was certainly not as in tune with her body as…. _Stop thinking about him._ She forced those thoughts to the back of her mind.

Just then Dr. Norris walked in. She smiled at Rayna. "Well, Rayna, looks like you were right, you are pregnant. Almost ten weeks along. That puts your due date right around September 15."

Rayna quickly calculated in her head, figuring she'd have to cancel or reschedule tour dates starting in July. She was already planning for a return to touring as soon as she could get back into shape. She wasn't going to take a year off this time, like she had with Maddie. She smiled at the doctor. "Teddy will be thrilled," she said. _Why am I not?_

* * *

Teddy _was_ thrilled. He was over the moon, in fact. Of course, he'd wanted Rayna to stop touring right then, but she had refused. She just kept moving ahead as though it was just another obstacle to overcome, not letting it slow her down any more than necessary. Tandy and her father seemed more excited this time and she realized it was because this baby wasn't Deacon's. She knew they loved Maddie dearly, but she hated that distinction, and it made her even more protective of her older daughter.

As the weeks and months moved on, she found herself feeling resentful. Teddy annoyed her with his over-the-top solicitousness, catering to her every whim. She knew she should enjoy it, but she couldn't. She hated talking about her pregnancy and the baby with every reporter, every radio show host, every fan that asked, while she continued to tour. The pregnancy had been easy, easier than with Maddie, and she'd felt surprisingly energetic. When July approached, she began to wish she hadn't rescheduled the dates.

Tandy met her for lunch her first day back in Nashville after the tour ended for her maternity leave. She smiled happily at Rayna. "Babe, you look fantastic!" she said. "Pregnancy becomes you."

Rayna rolled her eyes as she sat down. "Oh, for crying out loud, Tandy, that's ridiculous," she said. "I look like a whale."

Tandy shook her head. "You do not. You look beautiful. You really do, babe." She reached out for Rayna's hand and squeezed it.

Rayna gave her a small smile. "Well, thank you," she responded. "I don't really feel beautiful, but thank you for saying that."

"How are you feeling?"

Rayna shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Tandy frowned slightly. "What's up, sweetie?" Just then, the server came up and they stopped talking to place their order. When she left, Tandy reached for Rayna's hand again. "You don't seem happy, babe. What's going on?"

Rayna looked down for a moment, then looked back up, but didn't look Tandy in the eye. "I'm just not excited about this baby," she said softly. "Not like I should be."

"But why not? Sweetheart, you always wanted two. You're in a good, solid marriage. Maddie's four, so it's a good age." She looked sharply at Rayna. "Wait. It's not…."

Rayna looked at her, her eyes flashing. "No. It's not. It has nothing to do with him." She looked away again. "But you're right, everything is perfect. I don't know why I can't get more excited. I don't want it to be like this."

Tandy leaned forward. "Then don't let it be. You know, I think that when you have that little baby in your arms, everything will change and you'll be head over heels in love with her. But until then…. Remember what Mom always used to tell us when we weren't enthusiastic about something?"

Rayna frowned and shook her head. "No."

"Fake it 'til you make it. Just act like you're excited and before long, it'll start to feel like you're excited." She made a face. "You know, Rayna, I know Teddy wasn't your first choice. I think _Teddy_ knows he wasn't your first choice. But he's been a good husband and a good father. You've said that yourself."

Rayna nodded. "That is true."

Tandy smiled encouragingly. "He's so excited, babe. I've never seen a man more overjoyed. He isn't going to love this baby more than Maddie, if that's what you're worried about. Any more than you will. You know that. Maddie is _his_ daughter too."

The server came up with their salad plates and drinks and they waited for her to set them down and walk away. Rayna smiled at her sister. "You're right. About all of it. And I know you're right about when she's born. I'll love her just as much as I love Maddie. And so will Teddy."

Tandy sat back. "You know, I'm not oblivious, Rayna. And I do know how you felt about Deacon, although God knows why. But you knew that when you married Teddy, that was the end for you and Deacon. And he's out in Texas now and I think that's for the best. For both of you. You can have the life you've always wanted and he can move on too. It's best for you _and_ for Maddie."

Rayna picked up her fork and stabbed at her salad. She sighed. "I guess." She looked at her sister. "It really doesn't have anything to do with Deacon. I promise." _But if it doesn't, why can't I stop thinking about him?_

* * *

Daphne Jaymes Conrad was born early in the morning on September 8, a week early. She was a tiny thing, smaller than Maddie, and she had a light colored fuzz all over her head. She was a sunny, happy baby from the moment she was born. Tandy had been right. Rayna fell in love with her tiny baby the moment she was born and cradled in her arms. Now she had the perfect family. Her two girls and a husband who adored them all. It was exactly what she'd said she always wanted.

* * *

Deacon stopped at a convenience store on his way to the studio to pick up a root beer. Life was good, a year and a half past rehab. Watty had kept his word and hooked him up with a major Austin producer, who had pulled together a group of musicians to surround him with. What had surprised him was that, instead of him being a solo artist, he had found being part of a band more appealing. He sang lead, played lead guitar, and wrote all the music, mostly on his own. But being part of a collective group had turned out to be infinitely more satisfying for him as an artist. The band had put out a demo, which had been well-received, and he'd been surprised when the guys had suggested calling themselves the Deacon Claybourne Band. Surprised and humbled. He vowed never to take it for granted.

As he waited to pay for his drink, he glanced over the display of magazines at the counter. Mostly tabloids and weeklies, he found himself a little startled when he saw the cover of _Country Weekly_. _Rayna Jaymes Has Second Little Country Princess!_ The photo on the cover was a pretty shot of her holding a baby. She looked happy, he thought, except for right around the eyes, where there was just the tiniest shadow. Although that could have just been the camera angle.

He felt a lump in his throat as he paid for the drink and walked out to his truck. He'd taken Watty's words to heart, as they were headed back to Austin after Watty picked him up from rehab. _Deacon, don't look back. Look forward. Rayna's in the past and I think that's probably where she needs to be. For now anyway. There'll be time for that when Maddie's old enough and you're strong enough and enough time has passed. But for now, you need to look ahead and not behind you._ He had avoided news about Rayna, had made himself stay away from things where they might cross paths. It had helped, he had to admit. He still had that little photo of Maddie that Watty had sent him, but he'd either thrown out stuff that reminded him of Rayna or boxed it up and put it in storage.

But now she had another daughter. Maddie had turned four not quite six months earlier. And now she had a sister. Rayna had that family she'd always wanted. He guessed that things were good with Teddy then. That she was happy. He did want that for her, but he realized that in spite of all his efforts to do otherwise, he really hadn't quite given up on the hope they'd find their way back to each other one day. But now that seemed unlikely.

He sighed. He needed to put that behind him once and for all. Maybe it was time for him to start moving on with his own life. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the studio.


	7. Chapter 7

Deacon had been thinking about it for a while, but when Maddie's tenth birthday had passed by, the desire became stronger. He wasn't sure he'd ever get to know his daughter. He'd thought that by now he would have heard from her. That Rayna would have told her about him and she'd be curious. And even though he'd missed so much of her life, they'd be able to find their own rhythm. He and Blair had never talked much about having a family, not in specific terms anyway. She knew about Maddie, but they never discussed having a family of their own. And he felt like time was slipping away.

He'd talked Blair into coming out on tour with him for a few weeks. He knew it was mostly because they would be in New York and Boston and Philly, places that interested her, but he was glad she had come. He missed her when he was on the road. It was hard not seeing her. She had tried touring with him the first six months they were married, but she hated sleeping in a different bed every night and she hated the tour bus life.

The band was in New York City for five nights of sold out shows at Barclays Center. He'd arranged for them to stay at the Mandarin Oriental, across the street from Central Park, in the Oriental Suite. He rolled over onto his side and wrapped his arm around his sleeping wife. She groaned. "Deacon," she whined. "It's too early."

He smiled and nuzzled her neck. "It's almost ten, sleepy head. Don't you have shopping to do?"

She rolled over to face him. She smiled, reaching up to run her fingers over his cheek. "I suppose I do." She ran her foot over his leg. "What's on the agenda for today?"

He sighed and bit his lip. He decided to just jump in with both feet. "I want to make a baby," he said. He could see the surprise in her eyes.

She swallowed. "Sweetie, what kind of life would it be when you're always on the road? You'd never be around for a baby." That was always her push back.

He ran the back of his hand against her cheek, then pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'd cut back," he said.

She gave him a look. "What about your band? You can't just make that decision for them."

He shrugged. "They'd be okay with it. They could do some things on their own, stuff they don't do now because of the band." He sighed. "I want us to have a baby, Blair," he said quietly. "I want us to do this together."

She was silent. He wondered what was going through her head. She was a smart woman, so he felt sure she was evaluating all her options. Things had been strained between the two of them since she'd had her riding accident and he wanted them to get back on track. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "You have a daughter already, Deacon," she said finally.

He frowned. "A daughter I never see," he said, brusquely. "I want _us_ to have a baby, Blair. I want us to have our own kid."

She seemed to be contemplating that. She reached out then and ran her fingers down his arm. "Can I think about it?" She ran her foot along his leg. "It's a big decision, you know? I need to think about whether the timing is right. For both of us."

He nodded. Then he leaned in to kiss her, sliding his hand under the sheet and pulling her underneath him. She made a purring noise and kissed him back, letting him know by the way she moved beneath him that she wanted him. Right then.

* * *

When Deacon walked off the stage that night, after the second encore, Blair was waiting for him. She didn't come to shows often and so it was a special treat for him whenever she did. She had gone shopping after a late lunch and then had surprised him by showing up at sound check. And now there she was, looking so pretty in her jeans and cowboy boots and her new jacket she'd picked up that afternoon. Her blonde hair was piled loosely on top of her head, the way he liked it, and she had a sweet smile on her face for him.

"Hey, baby," he said, with a smile, then pulling her into an embrace and kissing her. "I'm so glad you're here."

She smiled up at him, her arms around his waist. "Me too," she said. "Y'all were great out there." He put his arm around her shoulder and they started walking. She looked up at him. "Can we just go back to the hotel?" she asked.

He looked down at her. There was something soft about her tonight, not clingy or needy, but like she wanted to be near him. "We can do whatever you want, baby," he said. When she was like this, he'd do anything for her.

When they got in the limo and headed for Manhattan, she leaned forward and hit the button to send the privacy window up. Then she leaned back into him, pulling her legs up underneath her and wrapping her arm around his waist. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. He was looking forward to a night of lovemaking. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself.

"Yes," she whispered, suddenly.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Yes?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"I thought about it today and yes, if you want a baby, we can have a baby."

He tilted her chin so he could look in her eyes and then he leaned down and kissed her. it wasn't until much later, after all that happened after that, that he realized that she'd never said it was what _she_ wanted, but that it was because it was what _he_ wanted.

* * *

When he thought about it afterwards, he remembered all the flashes of insight that came throughout that dark day, the day that Blair woke him up to tell him the baby was coming. Things that seemed out of sync, that he pushed aside because there was no time to stop and contemplate them then. He had wanted to take time off from touring to be with her during the pregnancy, but she'd insisted he not change his schedule, that he could take time off afterwards. She'd scheduled doctor appointments when she knew he would be on the road. She had procrastinated on decorating a nursery and she never seemed overly interested in things he'd thought she would be. Things he remembered Rayna being interested in before Maddie was born.

It occurred to him that, even though she limited the time they spent together, Rayna had kept him much more informed about how things were going than Blair did. Blair wasn't even interested in picking out names, although he didn't really focus on that until later. She'd let him decide on the name for a boy and, when she'd balked at choosing a name for a girl, she let him pick that as well. He hadn't realized how much she had distanced herself from the whole idea of a baby until he'd had time to think.

The day that was supposed to be the best day of his life, the day that was going to make up for the heartbreak he felt about Maddie, had turned into a nightmare. One he probably should have seen coming.

* * *

Deacon walked out of the hospital, into the parking lot. He stopped for a moment, choking on a sob. He couldn't quite remember, at first, where his truck was. Then he took a deep breath and focused. There it was, where he'd parked it, what, ten hours ago?

He walked over slowly and got in, then sat with his head back on the head rest, his eyes closed. Ten hours ago he'd brought Blair here, in labor, and panicking. She'd been out of her mind, it seemed like, alternately scared and angry. As much as she seemed to want it all to be over, in the days leading up to this, she seemed terrified once they got to the hospital. She didn't want to push, didn't seem to want the baby to come.

Then when he did, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He had a terrible, ultimately fatal birth defect. None of what happened next was supposed to happen, none of it felt normal.

Blair wouldn't hold the baby or even look at him. She literally pushed Deacon away, even as he tried to comfort her. She shrieked at him that it was all his fault for forcing her to even have a baby in the first place. As he was reeling from her verbal assault, a nurse was taking the baby away.

He'd stood there for a moment, not sure what to do, and then Blair's doctor took his arm and gently led him to the nursery. And there he sat, his son laid carefully in his arms, as she explained what was wrong and that he would not survive.

Deacon was so stunned, he couldn't even cry. He held his son, the child he'd hoped to see grow up, and talked to him softly. He told him his name, told him he loved him, and then less than thirty minutes after he was born, he was gone.

After he finally let them take his son from his arms, one of the nurses walked him down to Blair's room. The nurse there, her eyes filled with compassion, had told him Blair didn't want to see anyone. No, not even him. He'd pleaded for a moment, then had finally left, after telling the nurse to let his wife know he'd be back for her the next day.

Now he didn't know what to do or where to go. As he sat there, the tears finally came. For his son, who'd never had a chance. For his wife, who had gone through all this and now couldn't seem to look at him. For all of them, because the dream of a family was over.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the tears rolling down his face, the soul-crushing sobs shaking his body. But finally he seemed spent and he started the truck and headed for home.

* * *

At some point, he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the lake house. He felt stiff and uncomfortable when he woke up. The sun was shining and he gingerly got up. He padded into the kitchen and started coffee. He glanced at the clock on the stove. _9:40. Damn._

He went and got his phone from the entry table. He punched Blair's name and frowned when it went straight to voice mail. He found the number for the hospital and was eventually transferred to the nurses' station on Blair's floor.

He waited while they looked her up. Then the nurse came back on the line. "She's checked out," she said.

Deacon frowned. "What? How could she have checked out? I'm her husband."

There was a pause. "It looks like her parents came for her." There was another pause. "I'm sorry, Mr. Claybourne."

_What the hell?_

* * *

He felt like he'd called Blair a thousand times over the next three days. He called her cell phone and the house in Dallas, with no luck. He didn't know her parents' number. He'd pushed out the graveside service for the baby, hoping he could make contact with her. He was desperate to see her. He knew she must be as devastated as he was, but he didn't understand why she had pushed him away, why she'd turned her back on him. And he needed her.

He was sitting on the deck at his house when his phone rang. He pounced on it when he saw Blair's name. "Blair, baby!" he cried out hoarsely. "Where are you?"

There was a pause. "Deacon, it's not Blair, it's Mary Beth."

Deacon's heart sank at the sound of Blair's mother's voice. "When's she coming home?" he asked.

Mary Beth sighed. "I don't know. She's, well, she's not doing well, Deacon. She hasn't come out of her room since we got here."

He felt tears in his eyes. "I…I need her, Mary Beth. We need each other." He swallowed. "I need to talk to her. Please let me talk to her."

She paused again. "She's just not ready. And I'm not going to force her right now."

"The burial is day after tomorrow. Here in Austin. Please ask her to come."

"I'll tell her, but I don't think she'll be there. I'm sorry, Deacon. I wish I could tell you something different, but she's just not ready."

He rubbed his free hand over his face. "Please let me talk to her. Just for a minute," he begged.

"I can't." And then she hung up.

After that, when he tried calling her, the phone went straight to voice mail.

* * *

The day of the funeral was bright and sunny, warm but not too hot. Deacon stood in front of the mirror and hardly recognized the man that stared back at him. He felt like he'd aged ten years in the last five days. His eyes were filled with pain, his face was drawn. He felt completely, utterly alone. He could feel the tears coming and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but it did no good. He turned away from the mirror as he choked on a sob. He sat down on the edge of the tub, put his head in his hands, and cried. For his son, for his wife, for himself.

Nothing was as it should have been. He and Blair should have brought their son home. They should have been a family. But instead, she was in Dallas, refusing to talk to him. And he was in Austin, getting ready to bury their son. He rubbed his face, but the tears wouldn't stop. And then, for the first time in a very long time, he wanted a drink. Badly. The intensity of the need kicked him in the gut.

He stood up and took several deep breaths. He went to the sink and turned on the water, filling his hands and then rubbing the cold water over his face. He grabbed the sink with both hands and raised up his head to look back in the mirror. _You can't do this, Deacon. You gotta stay strong._ He took another deep breath and then pushed up from the sink. He was starting to feel in control again.

He walked out into the bedroom and got dressed.

* * *

There were only a handful of people at the cemetery. His band members, his manager, his sponsor. Even though he hadn't expected her, his heart hurt when he realized Blair hadn't come. The service was short. He felt ripped apart as they lowered the tiny coffin into the ground.

He was standing with his head down and his eyes closed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up. "What are you gonna do now, Deke?" Eric, the band's bass player, asked, his voice solemn.

Deacon shrugged and gave him a twisted smile. "I don't know," he said, raising his eyebrows, then shaking his head.

"Come out with us, man. Just to hang."

He gave Eric a sad smile. "You don't need me hanging around. Y'all got a good thing set up. I don't wanna get in the way of that."

"What are you gonna do if you don't come? Sit around and do nothing?"

"I don't know. Write maybe?"

"You can do that on a tour bus with us, same as you can do it here. And maybe getting out with the guys would help." He put his hand on Deacon's shoulder. "We'd be glad to have you. You know that."

Deacon looked off towards the horizon. He had no idea when Blair was coming home. _If_ she was coming home. Maybe it would be better to be out on the road. Not sit at home. It would keep him from dwelling on things. He looked back at Eric. "Thanks, man. Maybe I'll take you up on that."

* * *

Watty was the one who told her about Deacon's son. She was at Maddie's soccer game, sitting with Daphne, who was whining about wanting to go home. When her phone vibrated, she raised her eyebrows. She hadn't heard from Watty in a while. "Hey, Watty," she answered warmly.

"Rayna. How are you?"

"I'm good. Watching Maddie's soccer game." She laughed a little. "I have no clue what I'm watching, and Maddie's not very good, but she seems happy we're here."

There was a slight pause before Watty spoke again. "I don't know if you'll see this anywhere, but I just wanted to let you know that Deacon's son died."

Rayna felt like she'd been sucker punched. "What?"

"I don't know any details except that he died shortly after he was born. I haven't talked to Deacon, just heard about it through some sources. It happened a few days ago."

Rayna struggled to maintain her composure. "I'm sure he's devastated." She swallowed hard. "Thanks for letting me know, Watty," she said softly, and she hung up. She turned her head as the tears welled up in her eyes. She reached up with her free hand to brush them away.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Daphne asked.

Rayna turned to look at her daughter, all blonde and bubbly, although right now her little face was all screwed up with worry. She took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm okay, precious girl. Uncle Watty just called me with some sad news is all." She reached out and put her arm around Daphne, pulling her closer. "Don't you worry about it." She turned her attention back to the soccer game, but she couldn't stop thinking about Watty's call.

* * *

When she got home, she looked online for any information. She wasn't surprised that it was hard to find any news about it. Deacon had always been very circumspect about his personal life and that had not changed over the years. She finally found one very small mention. _Sad news for DCB frontman Deacon Claybourne and his wife. Their baby son died shortly after birth on June 3. A private graveside service was held on June 8 at Lakeview Cemetery in Austin, TX._ There was a picture that accompanied the item, obviously at the graveside service. She recognized Deacon, his head bowed, but then she frowned. There were only a handful of people there, no one she could recognize. But it didn't appear his wife was there. Her heart hurt for him, thinking of him shouldering this devastation all alone.

She felt the tears on her cheeks and wiped them away.


	8. Chapter 8

It had all started when Lamar had convinced Teddy to run for mayor of Nashville. He was having trouble convincing an unusually stubborn Metro Council to approve a land deal he wanted. Rayna screwed up her face. If she were honest, it probably went back much further than that. She just hadn't paid attention.

She knew Teddy had met Peggy in college. Even though they were both from Nashville, they hadn't run in the same social circles. They had dated for a while, then broken up. Teddy didn't remember why. He'd gone on to have a career in finance and that's when Rayna met him, by way of Tandy. Peggy married Robert Kenter and that was her entrée into the Nashville social scene. Peggy had come back into Teddy's world when they both were doing work at the credit union.

That was when Teddy had invested their money in a questionable deal, without her knowledge, and lost his job. It had been a serious blow to the marriage, but Rayna was determined to keep them together, if for no other reason that for the sake of the girls. She hadn't realized then how entrenched Peggy was with Teddy's deal. Not until he had confessed the embezzling scheme to her just prior to his mayoral campaign.

She'd been thrown for a loop. She had felt as though she'd been kicked in the gut. Like she didn't know Teddy at all. It had rocked their foundation, knowing the precarious position he'd put them in. What made it worse was that her own career was floundering then and she didn't know what the future would hold. She didn't want him running for mayor and was angry he was moving ahead with that. It had launched them on the path that had led to Teddy showing up at her hotel room in Chicago, telling her he wanted a divorce.

When Maddie overheard him on the phone, talking to Peggy, telling her he loved her, Rayna had initially been surprised, but then she realized later she hadn't been surprised at all. She'd seen Peggy talking privately with Teddy at one of his fundraisers and it had raised her radar, but then she'd shaken it off. She had never really thought Teddy would cheat on her. But then she'd also never thought Teddy would embezzle money either.

She knew she should have been more distraught, or something. But she just felt bone-weary. Teddy had disappointed her, in ways she never thought he would. It wasn't even just the affair and maybe, really, that was the least of it. While it hurt, the reality was that he deserved to find love with someone who would love him the way she had never loved him. What hurt was the feeling of failure, that somehow they hadn't been able to make it work. Even with all the effort, they still had failed in the end.

She always knew she'd never loved him the way he'd love her. What was it he'd said? _You know I kept hoping that things would change, that there would somehow be this, I don't know, magical moment where things would just get better, you know, where you just looked at me and just loved me._ Yeah, that never happened. She knew it was never going to happen. She had loved Teddy as much as she was ever going to love him. He was a good father to their girls. He had, most of the time, been a good husband, a decent provider, holding down the home front while she climbed the career ladder.

It hadn't been enough though, for either of them. She still wondered what it would be like to be married to someone she adored, who made her tingle inside, who swept her off her feet. And, to be honest, he probably was looking for the same. He'd told her once that she dazzled him and she really didn't understand that. How could he have been dazzled when she had never been, deep down, as committed to the marriage as he was?

They'd had to tell the girls and they were sad. She knew what it had been like to grow up in a house where parents fought and took out their disappointments on each other. She wondered if her father had felt like Teddy did, that he was chasing after something that wasn't going to happen?

* * *

She sat in the bedroom in the back of the tour bus with the door closed. She was anxious, thinking about getting back to Nashville. It had been Teddy's week to be with the girls. She didn't like the idea of having to move out of the house every other week. It seemed like it always took a couple days for the girls to readjust to a new parent in the house. So it would be tense and strained at first and she hated that. She pulled her iPod out of her purse and put the earbuds in. She turned it on and hit shuffle.

She recognized the opening immediately. Not only was the song appropriate, but it was ironic who the artist was. She'd read somewhere that he'd written it while he was in rehab that last time. That six months had really put him on the right path. Finally.

_No lookin' back, no time for that / Hot on the track, burnin' in the dust / I see it bright, I see it clear_

_I'm gonna roll, roll into the sun / Roll, roll, roll into the sun / Breathe in, breathe in / I got another day to breathe in_

She sat back against the pillows on the bed. Maybe that's what she needed to do. Just breathe in and roll into the sun. She had needed Teddy once, but she really didn't need him now. She'd get her career back on track and things would work out. She was sure of it.

_Breathe in, breathe in / I got another day to breathe in / Everybody breathe in / Just breathe in / We got another day / To breathe in  
_

* * *

She sat in her bed, thinking about what had happened the day everything had gotten turned upside down. She and Teddy were having one of those tense conversations they always seemed to have these days about the girls. Maddie had walked into the kitchen and confronted them with the papers that had shown Teddy wasn't Maddie's father and that Deacon Claybourne was. _I found these. A paternity test that says Dad isn't my dad. And this agreement that's signed by Deacon Claybourne, saying that he gave up the right to be my father. Please tell me what this means, because I don't understand. _She had felt sick to her stomach as she looked at the pain in her daughter's eyes.

She had never wanted to hurt Maddie and yet that was exactly what she'd done. She wasn't sure she could make it all right, but she was going to try. She picked up her phone. She was afraid to call. It had been thirteen years. She didn't even know what she would say. She sighed and then she looked up his contact information. Watty had given her his number when he'd gotten Deacon a new phone. She'd never used it, until now. She typed out a text and then sat looking at it, unsure whether to send it or not. Her thumb hovered over the send button and then finally she just did it.

_Please come. We need you._


	9. Chapter 9

It was a hot sticky 4th of July, even though it was still early morning. Deacon was with his bandmates in Houston. He was supposed to be in Austin, with Blair, enjoying being new parents. Instead he was riding the bus and writing songs. His wife was in Dallas and he hadn't talked to her since their son was born a month before. And his son was gone, buried in a tiny coffin in a cemetery back in Austin. He was sitting in his hotel room, a blank notebook in front of him. In the beginning he'd tried calling Blair over and over. She would never return his calls. As the days passed, he tried less and less often, but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He reached for his phone and pulled up her name. His thumb was poised over the name ready to hit 'call', but he stopped. He leaned back and sighed. Then he pulled up the keyboard to text her. _Please, baby, talk to me. I miss you. I love you._ He hit send and then set the phone down. He got up and walked over to get his guitar. He heard the buzz indicating he had a text. He walked back and picked up the phone.

_I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. Please understand._

* * *

He knocked on Eric's door. As he waited, he put his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders forward. When Eric opened the door, he looked like he'd just woken up. "Hey, Deke, what's up?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

Deacon took a breath. "I'm going to Dallas. I can't keep running from this thing, so… So, I'm going to Dallas. I don't know what my plans are after that."

Eric shook his head. "No problem, man. You know where we'll be, so if you want to come back, or need to, open invitation."

Deacon nodded. "Thanks." He turned to go, then turned back. "I will be ready when our tour starts. Don't worry about that."

"I'm not." Eric moved the safety latch to hold the door open and stepped out into the hall. "I hope you get things worked out, Deacon. It all sucks, man, but we've got your back. You know that."

Deacon raised his eyebrows and breathed in. "I do." Then he turned and walked down the hallway.

* * *

It was a warm, muggy morning, but the breeze off the lake cut through the humidity just a bit. Deacon sat under the shade of the maple and oak trees that provided much of the privacy for his home and stared out at the water in front of him. His emotions were all over the place, had been for days. The white hot rage that had nearly derailed him was starting to ebb just a bit. When he thought back over what had happened in Dallas, he still felt nauseous. His pain was still knife sharp, but it wasn't for Blair. All he could manage to feel for her was fury.

He couldn't stop picturing what happened in his head, although when he did, he found himself bouncing off of it like a pinball machine, unable to land anywhere long enough to evaluate it or contemplate it. If he settled on any piece of it for too long, he felt that overpowering yearning to erase it with a drink. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

_He had pulled up in front of the house in Dallas. Blair had insisted that they have a place in Dallas. Even though she'd gone to UT, Austin was not where she wanted to spend all of her time. Dallas was her home and she loved the energy of the city. Although Deacon didn't understand why they needed two homes, in those early days he would have done anything for her. She had found the quaint bungalow in Highland Park and declared it perfect. Deacon remembered the first time he'd seen the house and he'd had a sense of déjà vu, thinking about the little bungalow in East Nashville where he and Rayna had lived until she'd moved out._

_He knew Blair was back here, because Mary Beth had told him she'd moved back in. He had left her alone, hoping she would reach out when she was ready, but it had been a month and that was long enough. He parked his rental car and walked up to the front door. He thought about ringing the doorbell, but this was his house too, even though he really thought of it as Blair's house. He put his key in the lock and let himself in._

_He'd called out her name, but there had been no answer. He didn't know if she was there or not, so he walked through the main level of the house to the kitchen. He looked out the window to the back of the house, but the garage door was closed. When he turned back around, he finally looked at his surroundings and frowned. There were several prescription bottles on the counter. When he looked at the labels, he found they were either OxyContin or Percocet, from multiple doctors. He knew she'd taken Percocet after her riding accident, but as he looked at all of it, he had a very bad feeling._

_When he'd confronted her, at first she tried to deny it, but then faced with the evidence, she'd confirmed his worst fear. She'd never stopped taking the pills. She'd doctor-shopped to get more prescriptions. And she'd found other sources to fill in the gaps. Instead of feeling regretful about her actions, she blamed it on him. His not being around, his lack of attention to her, and his insisting they have a baby. He felt sick to his stomach, listening to her, certain that her actions had caused the death of their son._

_He had finally walked out, feeling numb after her accusations and anger. He had driven to the closest bar and ordered a whiskey. Then he sat there, staring at it, lifting it and swirling it, contemplating drinking it. More than once he lifted it towards his lips, then finally set it down. His hands were shaking from both his rage and his pain. Finally, as the ice melted and the condensation on the outside of the glass caused the cocktail napkin to be soaked, he threw ten dollars on the bar, got up, and walked out._

He sighed and rubbed his face. He still felt like he'd been kicked in the gut, but he was trying to just move on. It wasn't easy, and he found himself craving whiskey more often than not. He'd gone to several meetings, trying to find an anchor to hang onto, but he was struggling. So he'd called his sponsor, who was on his way over.

* * *

Deacon turned at the sound of footsteps on the deck. He raised his hand in greeting to the tall, wiry bald man with the salt-and-pepper goatee. His visitor sat in the chair next to him. "Thanks for coming out here, Richard," he said, offering his hand.

Richard shook it. "No problem, Deacon," he said. "Glad you called." He sat back in the chair and took the bottled water Deacon offered. "How can I help?"

_Richard had become his sponsor when he first got back to Austin after rehab. Deacon remembered thinking how different Richard was from Coleman, his sponsor in Nashville. Coleman was always lecturing him, not unkindly, but there were times when it had pissed Deacon off. Richard was a listener, only occasionally offering advice. Most of the time he'd listen to Deacon and then point out something in the twelve steps or some other common wisdom from AA, giving Deacon something to think about as it related to his recovery. Deacon talked more with Richard than he ever had with Coleman, shared more of his demons and his pain._

"_Damn, Richard, you're like my fucking therapist," he'd said one day early on, a little angrily, as he'd continued to work through his complicated relationship with Rayna and how that had impacted his addiction. He knew he needed to resolve it in his mind so he could get on a good recovery path, but sometimes he felt pushed to the limit._

_Richard had chuckled softly. "That's because I __am__ a therapist, Deacon. Occupational hazard for me. I always tend to talk like one."_

_Deacon had looked at him and then had laughed. "Well, I'll be damned," he said._

Deacon sat forward in his chair and then looked over at Richard. "I've struggled a time or two in the last few days," he said. He turned his head and looked out over the lake. "Blair and I are done."

"Ah," Richard said. "What prompted that?"

Deacon shook his head. "I went to see her. I mean, we lost a son, we should have been there for each other. But she ran from me."

"Did you find out why?"

"Yeah." Deacon worked his lip, his face dark with anger. He turned to look at Richard. "Oxy. She's been hooked since her riding accident."

"Ouch."

"I feel like an idiot. That I didn't pick up on it." He shook his head. "But I wasn't around. I wasn't paying attention." He brought a closed fist down on the arm of the chair. "But she agreed to have a baby, knowing she was doing pills. And our son had a birth defect. It was her fault!"

Richard took a deep breath. "Do you know that was the cause?"

Deacon breathed out. "What else could it be?"

"Well, damn, Deacon," Richard said quietly. "I hate that. All of it actually. Tough way for things to end."

"You know, the breaking up part doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. I mean, we've been pulling away from each other for a while. I thought having a baby would bring us together." Deacon rubbed his face with his hands. "What sucks is that our son ended up as collateral damage in this. He didn't have to die." He was quiet for a moment, just staring out at the lake. "She doesn't love me anymore. That's what she said."

"How do you feel?"

Deacon let out a sharp laugh. "You know what? I don't really even care. She sort of killed whatever little bit of love was left."

Richard was quiet as he watched Deacon. "How close did you come to lapsing?" he asked finally.

"Pretty damn close. I wanted a drink so bad after Jackson died. Craved it. I got past it and then I went to Dallas. I went to see her and all that happened." He turned to look at his sponsor. "When I got to the car and put my hand in my pocket for my keys, I had a bottle of pills. I guess I picked it up and forgot about it." He could see Richard's eyebrows raise. "I ditched 'em. But I drove to a bar and I ordered a whiskey. Sat and looked at it for an hour while the ice melted."

"But you walked away?"

"I walked away."

Richard leaned over and patted Deacon on the shoulder. "Deacon, you know you're stronger than that. You know you don't need it anymore. That was an old habit."

"I know. But I was close, Richard. Damn, I was close. Closer than I've been in a lotta years."

"What are you going to do?"

Deacon shrugged. He knew it wasn't really a question. It was where he was supposed to reconfirm his commitment to staying sober. But he still felt the struggle. "Just get through it."

Richard sighed. "You know better than that. I know you've gone a long time without having to face this kind of emotion and test. But you have to _feel_ it. You can't push it down. If you do that, you're at greater risk of finding another way to cover up your feelings. Like whiskey. Or pills. Dig in and feel it. Feel the pain, the hurt, the anger, and deal with it. Then move on." He put a hand on Deacon's arm. "Don't ignore it. Or just try to get through it. Remember – one day at a time."

Deacon looked at him and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks. But I can't really talk about this with anyone."

"You don't have to tell people your story. But let yourself feel what's going on. Accept it. Acknowledge it and deal with it. Process it and then get on with life. But don't try to cover up how you feel."

Deacon nodded. "Understood."

Richard breathed in and raised his eyebrows. "I'm serious, Deacon. Nobody, including me, will make you tell anyone anything you don't want to share. But you can't pretend it didn't happen. Or you'll be back to getting that day one chip again."

Deacon was silent for a moment. "You're right," he said finally. "I won't ignore it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The band starts rehearsal in a month for the next tour. That'll give me some time to work through it."

"Call me if you need me. _When_ you need me. You've worked hard to get where you are, Deacon. You're stronger than you know. This is the time to see that in yourself."

* * *

He was lying on the bunk in the bus on the way back to Austin. The tour had been energizing. They'd been on the road for nearly a year and a half. After all the personal heartache and drama he'd gone through, it had felt good to pour all of that into his music and performing. Now that the tour was ending, he'd have a couple months to finish up the songs he'd been writing and then the band would be back in the studio to start recording their next album. He was about ready to nod off when he heard Rayna's voice on the sound system. He opened his eyes and focused on listening to the words of the song.

_Even if you think you're at a standstill / Even when you've got nowhere to call home / Everyone goes past you running uphill / Just be here_

_You don't have to understand the if and when / You just need to understand it's part of life / Never know for certain where you're going / But you'll always arrive_

He frowned slightly. It was different. Usually she sang more up tempo, engaging songs. Not that it wasn't pretty, but it seemed different. It didn't even sound country. He wondered what direction she was going in now. He didn't follow her career closely – too much history there for that – but he did know that her star seemed to be falling after years of her being the "Queen of Country Music". Younger female artists were crowding out many of the female greats and their music sounded more pop influenced. He wasn't sure he liked it. And he wasn't sure he thought Rayna should go down that road.

'_Cause the bridge that burned / Took you out of the way / Made you turn around / Until you face the demons / In the end you'll learn / You get there anyway / Sometimes it all goes wrong / Goes wrong for the right reasons_

He could relate to the words of the song. It was almost as though it were meant for him right at that moment. Maybe everything that had gone wrong was to get him out of the wrong situation. It certainly was true of the last year and a half of his life. Hearing the song made him think about Rayna. He didn't dwell on her these days. One of the things he'd learned in rehab was that he needed to move on from that part of his life, and he'd done that. He'd gone through all the emotions of what had happened between Rayna and him long ago. No sense bringing that back up. But hearing her voice made him wonder what her life was like now.

* * *

He started dreaming about Rayna that night. He hadn't done that in years. At first it was just seeing her standing nearby but eventually she would draw closer. Then he dreamt that she would touch him. Before long the dreams were of her kissing him and him kissing her. Eventually, he began to dream about making love to her. The harder he tried to rid himself of the dreams, the more intense they became. He couldn't figure out what that was about. _Why now?_

* * *

It was very late when he heard the ping on his phone that indicated he had a text message. He frowned. He had no idea who could be texting him this late. He picked up his phone and raised his eyebrows when he saw Rayna's name. It had been thirteen years since he'd heard from her. _Please come. We need you._

He sat up, staring at the text. _She needs me._

_**This takes us back to the beginning of "Breathe In". I have one last chapter that takes Deacon and Rayna into the future before I end this particular journey. Thanks for reading!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**It's Deacon and Rayna's ten year anniversary and they have a lot to celebrate. This chapter and one more will be some little special moments for them as they think back over ten years of marriage.**_

The buzzing of a phone woke them both up. They rolled apart from each other to check their respective bedside tables. "It's mine," Rayna said, her voice rough from both sleep and annoyance at being woken up. She hit "Accept" and put the phone to her ear. "Hey, Buck, what's up?" She listened and then said, "Okay. Well, thanks for letting me know." She disconnected and put the phone back down. Then she rolled over to face Deacon, who was watching her. She smiled sleepily and scooched over to nestle into his side. "We got nominated for a CMA. Vocal Event of the Year."

Deacon put his arm around her and pulled her closer, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Really?" he asked, smiling at her.

She nodded. "You, me, and the girls. For the version of 'This Time' we did. Can you believe it?" She laughed softly. "I mean, that song is _old_, babe. Remember when I won 'Song of the Year' for that?"

He grinned. "I do. Nine years ago. Your big night." The _Red Lips/White Lies_ tour had led to a resurgence in her solo career that had culminated in her winning five CMA's, including her first, and only, 'Entertainer of the Year' award. She had enjoyed teasing him afterwards, that she had actually overshadowed him, with his band only winning two awards that night.

She leaned in and kissed him, tugging at his lip until he opened his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. She ran her foot along his calf and moaned low in her throat. He slid his hand down to her knee, hooking it behind her leg and gently pulling it towards him. She pulled her lips from his just briefly. "I love you, babe," she said, her voice husky.

"I love you too," he responded, finding her lips again and rolling them over so that he was on top of her. "Happy tenth," he whispered, before he moved inside her.

* * *

They had gotten married at the cabin, which seemed fitting somehow. Ten years ago today. It didn't feel like it had been that long. But maybe that was how it was supposed to feel when you were with the person you were meant to be with. Deacon sat on the side of the bed and pulled on his boots, while he watched Rayna putting on her makeup in the bathroom of the hotel suite.

After everything they'd gone through, both together and separately, for them to have ended up back together sometimes seemed like a miracle. They had always loved each other, but for many years they hadn't been good for each other. They'd created Maddie together, but even she wasn't enough to hold them together. It had taken a lot of years apart and a lot of hard work for them to find their own individual strength. He was just glad that when all the work was done, it had still led them back to each other.

As he watched her now, he thought that she was still as pretty as she'd been the first time he'd laid eyes on her, at the Bluebird, when she was just barely sixteen years old. He'd known then that she was the woman he was meant to spend his life with. It had taken them a long time to finally be ready for that, but it had been worth it to get there.

They hadn't been back together that long when he'd turned to her one night at the cabin and said, "Marry me."

She had looked at him with surprise in her eyes. "Really?"

He nodded and smiled. "Really." He shrugged. "It's really only ever been you, Ray. For me. This is what I've always wanted. I don't want to wait."

She looked at him and bit down on her lip. "When you say you don't want to wait…."

He raised his eyebrows. "I think we should just do this. As soon as we can. I already done the whole big wedding thing. You already done that too." He paused and reached for her hand. "Just Maddie and Daphne and you and me. Let's just do this."

She looked a little surprised, but then a smile crept over her face. "I think that sounds perfect," she said, and leaned in to kiss him.

_**~nashville~**_

They went to the courthouse and got a marriage license. Because Rayna had wanted a minister to do the ceremony, Watty volunteered his minister. "I want God to bless this, Deacon. After everything we've been through, I want to know God's looking out for us," she'd said. So that's what they'd done. Because it was just the four of them, everyone picked out their own clothes for the ceremony. He walked into the bedroom as Rayna was finishing her makeup. She caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled.

She was wearing a dress that was almost white. "I can't wear white, because that would be silly," she'd told him. "I didn't even wear white at my wedding to Teddy. That would have been crazy for a pregnant bride. So this is the closest I'll come."

He put his arms around her and kissed her warmly. "I don't care what you wear," he'd responded. "Just so long as you're marrying me in it." Blair had made him wear a tux and he remembered spending the whole day feeling uncomfortable. Today would be different, so the only thing he did differently from any other day was wear a jacket.

Rayna reached up and ran her hand over his cheek. "This is the happiest day of my life," she said. "All I ever wanted was to be your wife. Now I finally will be."

_**~nashville~**_

It was the happiest day of his life too. As he stood holding her hands and repeating his vows to her, as well as listening to her vows to him, he felt a peace he'd never known before. He felt a love that was greater than anything he'd ever experienced. He'd felt like he was home. This woman, this life, this was what he'd known was meant to be from the day he'd first seen Rayna Jaymes, when she was just sixteen and he was nineteen. They had taken some winding turns to get here, but it felt right.

* * *

Rayna watched him as he sat on the couch in the living room of the suite, working on a song. He was leaning over his guitar, scribbling in his notebook. It was hard to believe she'd met him thirty-five years ago and he still was the love of her life. She smiled to herself as she remembered standing on the Bluebird stage, singing into the microphone on open mic night. It wasn't her first open mic, but she still was nervous and she could feel her knees shaking. She had looked out into the crowd and her eyes had landed on him. He was looking back at her and she'd felt something almost electric in that moment.

She told Maddie once that she had fallen in love with him right then and there, and she had. She had fallen in love with him again when Watty introduced her to him and again when he smiled at her and again when she heard him on stage. It occurred to her that, even in their darkest days, that had never truly changed. She'd always loved him, but there was a long time when she couldn't be with him. She was grateful for the healing of that time, for both of them. It had made them both stronger, made them both ready to be together again.

He was still as handsome as he was the first time she laid eyes on him. And he still made her quiver inside in that delightful way whenever he looked at her and smiled at her.

They'd had a baby scare during their second year of marriage. Rayna was late – and she was never late – and she had wracked her brain trying to remember when they could have been careless. It happened around the same time that Juliette Barnes had had her baby. Rayna thought later that it probably caused her to think about the possibilities more than she might have otherwise. She wondered what it would be like to have another baby. Then she thought about Deacon and his sadness over losing his son. Would he want a baby now? He'd completely missed out on that experience, raising a child.

She'd found him on the couch in the music room and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her, tangling his fingers in her hair and kissing her on the forehead. "Hey," he said with a smile.

"Hey." She paused. "So, I'm late." She just decided to dive into it.

He frowned. "Late for what?"

"You know." She gave him a look. "_Late._"

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. A few days. I'll go get a test. To be sure." He looked serious and the little line appeared between his brows. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

He looked at her and then breathed out. "I don't know," he said. "I think you should check it out first."

"How would you feel?" she pressed.

He got up and walked over to the window, rubbing his hands over his face. Then he looked back at her. "I don't know," he said. "I really don't know."

_**~nashville~**_

She'd felt a little disconcerted. That had not been the reaction she'd expected. So when the test was negative and her period started a couple days later, she asked what he'd been feeling.

He was standing next to her at the kitchen island, leaning on his elbows. "If you'd told me you were pregnant, I would have accepted it and we'd have figured it all out. But I guess I'm past wanting that now, truthfully. I got you and the girls and I just don't need anything else. We got a good life, Ray." He looked at her. "I'm sorry if that wasn't what you expected. Or wanted to hear."

She shook her head. "I only thought about it for a minute. I mean, I'd just held Juliette's baby and she was so soft and warm and she smelled so good. It had been a long time since I'd held a baby." She sighed and then she smiled at him. "I think you forget the morning sickness and feeling bloated and not being able to see your feet. And then the spit up and diaper changes and baby tantrums." She leaned over and kissed him. "You're right. We have the perfect life and, quite honestly, I was relieved."

He looked at her closely. "You sure you're okay about it?"

She nodded. "I am. I promise." And she was. For a brief moment when the test was negative, she'd felt sad, but they were finally together and that was really all that mattered. She had the family she'd always hoped for and that was enough.

And now they were ten years in and she had never been happier. When she looked back on that, she really was relieved that it had turned out as it had. She and Deacon had been apart for so long and their time together before that had been so troubled and difficult, that it was a blessing to have had these ten years for just the two of them. She smiled happily to herself.

* * *

Deacon still hated after parties. They were a necessary evil, in his mind, and he knew they were important, but he still hated them. He'd hated them when he was with Rayna and the focus wasn't even on him. He always went with her, though, and usually was the one prompting her with names. He thought about the days when they would sit up at night on the bus, back in her tiny suite, and he would quiz her on who they would be meeting in the next city. These days, though, he was the one all the press and radio people and publicity folks wanted to see and talk to. Small talk wasn't his forte, not like it was Rayna's, and he'd never really gotten comfortable with it, even after all these years.

So when he got to the hotel in Salt Lake City, he was exhausted and drained. His head was buzzing. He didn't mind being out front on stage. Actually, he liked it a lot, but glad handing and smiling and trying to be witty and articulate just wasn't his thing. Rayna was always so much better at that than he was. Lately, though, he'd really felt even more dragged down by it all than usual. He was looking forward to the tour being over and being able to rest. He walked into his room and dropped his bag on a chair, then took off his vest and dropped it on top. He walked towards the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it on the end of the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands and then, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, collapsed on the bed.

Leaning back against the pillows, he called Rayna. "Hey, babe," came her voice, sounding sleepy.

He frowned. "Did I wake you up?" he asked.

"No, not really. I just had my eyes closed, waiting for you to call."

He smiled. "How was your show?"

"Good. Good crowd. You know."

"Where are you again?"

She laughed softly. "Detroit. So how was your show?"

"It was good. I'm worn out though." He sighed. "I think I'm getting too old for this."

"You're not old, babe."

He smiled. "The hell I'm not. I just turned forty-six. That's pretty damn old in this business."

"I don't know, babe. You're still selling out stadiums at forty-six. I'm sure not doing that." Her voice sounded wistful.

He was quiet for a moment. After a couple of resurgent years, Rayna's popularity was on the wane again. Her current tour was small venues, not even arenas. She put a good face on it, but he knew it was tough for her. "I've been thinking about something, Ray," he said. "When our tours are over, why don't we do a record together? Just you and me."

"Really?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah. A duet record. We can do some of our old stuff and write some new stuff too. We haven't written anything together since 'This Time'." He smiled. "I kinda like writing with you. And what comes _after_ writing with you."

She laughed. "I kinda like that part too."

"So? Want to?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I would love to."

* * *

Deacon had convinced her to do the record in Austin. Mix it up a little, he'd said. Actually it hadn't taken much convincing for her to agree. They hadn't been to Austin together in almost a year and she knew he hadn't been in almost six months, longer than he'd liked. Although their home was in Nashville now and he was glad to be back, she knew that a part of his heart was still in Texas. He usually tried to get to Austin every couple months, to stop by the cemetery and spend some time at Jackson's grave. But with trying to get together to write whenever they both had a break, he hadn't managed it lately, and she knew he was anxious to get there.

She actually liked Austin. It reminded her in many ways of Nashville. Besides, home was wherever Deacon was, and so this was as much home as Nashville was. She found him on the deck that first morning back, leaning on the deck rail, already dressed. She walked up to stand beside him, running her hand over his back. He turned to look at her and smiled. She looked at him, squinting into the sun. "You're up early," she said.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep so well and I didn't want to wake you up." He put his arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss.

She leaned into him for a moment, then looked back up at him. "Do you want me to go with you today?" she asked. Sometimes he'd go alone, but if she were in town with him, usually she went.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

"Well, let me get a quick shower and get dressed." She kissed him and turned to go in the house. She stopped at the door and turned back to look at him. He was leaning on the rail, looking out over the lake. Her heart fluttered a bit with love for him, so grateful they'd made their way back to each other. Then she walked in the house.

_**~nashville~**_

Deacon parked the truck and they got out. He waited for her as she walked around, then took her hand as they headed for the gravesite. They stood there quietly for a moment, just holding hands. It had been nearly six years since Jackson had died. Rayna couldn't imagine a greater pain than losing a child, even one you hadn't had time to know. She watched him as he dropped her hand and walked over to stand right beside the grave marker. He reached out and placed his hand on top, then sighed deeply. She wondered sometimes what was going through his head. He didn't talk to her much about Jackson. After he'd told her the whole story that day at the cabin, they didn't discuss it much.

Afterwards, he'd always be quiet and introspective, and she just let him have his own thoughts for a while. Before long, he'd come to her and wrap his arms around her and kiss her, as though he were thanking her, without words. And then they'd move on.

So she stood and watched and then, when he turned back to her, she took him in her arms and just held him. Then they slowly made their way back to the truck and headed for home.

_**~nashville~**_

They sat on the deck and worked at several different song ideas. It had been a frustrating afternoon, when nothing seemed to flow right. They'd come up with a verse, but couldn't figure out a chorus, or they'd get started on a melody, only to not be able to make it work. Deacon dropped his notebook on the deck and made an irritated noise.

"We can stop, babe," Rayna said.

He shook his head. "We need one more." He sat back in the chair.

"If it's not there, though…."

He rubbed his face. "Just wait," he said. He closed his eyes and sat quietly. Rayna watched him. He'd told her that often, when he got stuck, he would just sit and let everything drift out of his head, waiting for an inspiration to take hold. He would let everything go black and, at some point, a picture would form in his head and he would let it play out to see what would happen. That would usually end up giving him some inspiration for a song.

She imagined that he'd started this when he'd been writing alone all those years. When they were together, writing was all mixed up with loving. They would always sit close and it would feel like they were inside each other's heads as words and music would flow. It could still be that way, and was, but Deacon had developed these different songwriting methods and that had intrigued her. She loved to watch him as he went deep inside himself for an idea and she watched him now, seeing something in his face that let her know he'd found the muse.

Finally he opened his eyes and picked up the guitar. It surprised her when he told her that what he pictured in his head was the night she'd come to the cabin, that night they'd made Maddie. He still only remembered bits and pieces, but what he did remember ended up becoming a wistful song of love and leaving and everything they'd missed about each other then. And the song ended up, as always, practically writing itself.

_I never thought you'd pick up the phone / It's Friday night you should be out on the town / Didn't think you'd be / Sitting at home all alone like me_

_Nothing on TV, nothing to do / Nothing to keep my mind off you and me / And the way it was / __Are you thinking 'bout it now because..._

_...I could be there in five? / One more, one last time_

_We don't have to be lonely tonight / (Need you, want you, I'm right here) / We don't have to be lonely tonight / (I know we shouldn't, but I don't care) / I don't wanna be right, I don't wanna be strong / I just wanna hold you 'til the heartbreak's gone / When the sun comes up, we can both move on / But we don't have to be lonely tonight…._

When they finished, they sat quietly and smiled at each other. Then Deacon put his guitar down and reached for her, pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss. He let his lips move across her cheek and down her neck and she moaned with satisfaction. Then he raised his lips to her ear. "Now that we wrote the song, it's time for _after_ the song," he whispered, with a smile.

She leaned her head back a little and laughed softly, then turned to look into his eyes. "Yes, it is," she murmured. He reached for her hand and pulled her inside the house.

* * *

One of the things Deacon was most grateful for was the chance to finally be a father to Maddie. Having Rayna there to help with all the things he didn't know had made that a little easier, but there were still times when he'd been faced with a situation that he'd felt seriously out of his depth about. Maddie and boys scared him, still scared him.

When Maddie was fifteen, she'd been interested in Colt Wheeler, the son of Luke Wheeler. Luke had come up in the business the same time Rayna had and their paths crossed periodically. Deacon knew that Luke had had a thing for Rayna back then, but she had never really even noticed it. He'd kept his eye on Luke, to make sure he didn't try anything, but he met someone else and eventually married her. They'd had two kids, one of them Colt, before divorcing.

After Deacon had left Nashville, he'd run into Luke from time to time. While he'd never characterize their relationship as a friendship, they were always cordial and friendly when they ran into each other. Luke had been single for a long time, developing a reputation as a partier and a womanizer. But he was now seeing Sadie Stone, an up-and-coming artist and accomplished songwriter, and seemed to have settled down. Still, Deacon was wary of Luke's son being around Maddie. The apple didn't fall far from the tree and all that.

He and Rayna had talked about it when Maddie first expressed interest in him. Maddie wasn't really old enough to date, so most of the time they went to group events. They attended the same private school and Deacon had eventually decided that Colt was a decent kid and, although he was still very protective of Maddie – overprotective, she would say – he relaxed a little about it.

But then he'd gotten sick and found out he had liver cancer. It had shaken the whole family's foundation as they waited to see if he'd get a transplant. Maddie had struggled with the news, maybe more than the rest of them. She was angry that she hadn't had more time with him, she was scared he would die. She started spending more time with Colt, often out at Luke's ranch. Deacon and Rayna weren't thrilled about it, but decided that as long as they were supervised, they'd just keep an eye on it.

Deacon had been to the doctor that morning and was supposed to meet Rayna at the studio, but he was feeling tired and decided to head home instead. When he got to the house and pulled around back to the garage, he noticed an SUV down near the pool house. He frowned. There were no workmen that he knew of that were scheduled to be there that day and so he walked down to check it out. He could hear noise inside, voices and some muffled laughter. It sounded like Maddie, so he walked to the door and opened it.

For a moment, it felt like time stood still. He saw Maddie with her shirt unbuttoned and pulled out of her skirt. Colt was putting his shirt on. "What the hell?" he shouted.

Maddie's face drained of all color and she looked terrified. "Dad, I can explain," she pleaded.

Colt grabbed up his things and started to leave. "It wasn't her fault," he said. "She didn't even want to."

Deacon chased Colt out onto the pool deck as he ran towards his car. "You better run!" he called after him. "You better run away from me right now!" When Colt backed his car out, Deacon turned back to Maddie, who was crying. "You skipped school?" he asked, his eyes wide in anger. "You thought you could do this when you thought nobody would be here?"

Maddie shook with sobs. "I'm so sorry," she cried.

"Get your stuff," he said firmly. "And get up to the house." As he watched her run to the house, he stood shaking, with anger and fear. Then he felt tears spring up in his eyes as he thought about not being there to watch out for her in situations like this.

_**~nashville~**_

He was glad that situation turned out to be not as bad as it first appeared. He and Rayna had had a long talk with Maddie and were relieved to confirm she had not actually had sex. While they knew it would happen one day, he hoped it would not be for a long while. Colt didn't come around again, for which Deacon was grateful. He wasn't sure he could keep his temper under control around the boy.

He was also grateful that he did end up being around to keep watch over his daughter and keep an eye on the boys she was interested in. And, while his heart hurt for her, he was glad to be the shoulder she cried on when she was nineteen and had her heart broken for the first time. He was the one she came to and he cried with her, assuring her that she'd find someone much better one day. And that he would be there to make sure that boy treated her the way she deserved.

He felt blessed every day to be Maddie's dad and he was happy with the relationship they'd built together. He couldn't have loved her more than if he'd been there every day of her life and he always cherished the days they did have.

* * *

Rayna watched as Deacon selected the guitars he wanted to take on the tour. She had to smile. She was the only one in the family that didn't play and there were times when she was on the outside watching her husband and two daughters talk about guitars, debate which ones were best, and then play them together. These days she was even more grateful that she still had all three of them, playing guitars and debating their merits. There was a time when she was afraid that Deacon was going to be taken from her forever and those days still haunted her.

It had started with Deacon getting a cold that he couldn't seem to shake. After they had recorded their first duet album, they planned a very short tour to introduce it. Deacon was exhausted at the end of every show, which worried her. But he insisted it was just getting older and not getting enough sleep. She tried not to worry too much and just enjoy spending time together. Towards the end of the tour, he seemed to be better and in better spirits and she shrugged off her concerns.

Almost as soon as they were back in Nashville, he went back in the studio with his band to record their next album. He was always tired then, never feeling a hundred percent. She would fret over him, he would get mad at her for hovering, then he would be remorseful for being upset with her. As tired as he was, he slept poorly, and he had episodes of disorientation. He was stubborn as a mule, though, about being sick and, as usual, he'd work through it.

One night, when the girls were with Teddy, he'd fallen asleep on the couch while he and Rayna watched a movie. She woke him up when it was over. "Hey, babe," she murmured. "Go on to bed."

He smiled sleepily. "Will you come with me?" he asked.

She smiled back. "I'll be there in a few minutes. I have a couple things to do first." She frowned a little at how flushed he looked. She laid her hand on his forehead like she might have done with one of the girls. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not really feeling tip top, but, you know, we had a pretty intense day in studio today."

She stood up and reached for his hand to pull him up. "Go on to bed. I'll be there shortly." He let her help him up and then he took her in his arms and held her close for a moment. Then he headed for the bedroom and she stood watching him until he disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

What happened after that seemed almost like it had happened to someone else. She had felt a little like she was standing outside her own body from the moment she walked in the bedroom and found Deacon face down on the floor and unresponsive. She was shaking so hard that she dropped the phone more than once trying to call 911. And then she could hear her voice rising nearly an octave in her terror as she gave the address and gate code to the dispatcher.

She vaguely remembered the ride to the hospital in the ambulance. She remembered holding his hand tightly, crying over and over again for him to wake up. When they arrived at the ER, he was whisked away from her, as she was left standing bereft at the admitting station. She called Scarlett, who raced over as soon as she called. They sat together in silence, just holding each other's hands.

Deacon finally woke up after they got him into a room. He was a little disoriented and surprised at the oxygen tube in his nose. "Where…where am I?" he asked, fear in his eyes as he looked at Rayna, then Scarlett.

She tried to smile encouragingly, holding his hand tightly. "In the hospital," she said. "You passed out, or something, and I couldn't wake you up."

He still looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I don't know what happened."

"Well, that's what we're gonna find out, I hope," she said, trying to hide her concern.

Just then, one of the ER doctors came into the room. She walked over to the side of the bed. "So, Mr. Claybourne, you have pneumonia and you were pretty dehydrated, which is why you passed out. Those are things we can treat and you'll feel better." She frowned. "But your blood work is a different matter. Those results have me quite concerned."

Deacon looked like he was in shock and Rayna swallowed hard. "What did you find?" she asked.

"Cirrhosis of the liver that went undiagnosed, for quite some time, based on these results. And we have a seriously elevated white cell count, which strongly points to cancer."

_**~nashville~**_

For the next several days everything was a blur. The appointment with the oncologist, all the tests, hearing the news that it was, in fact, cancer, and not only that, but it had advanced to the stage that a transplant was the only answer. Even more devastating was the fact that the window of opportunity even for that was fast closing, as the tumor was growing.

Telling the girls was heartbreaking. Dealing with the aftermath of that news felt desperate. Maddie acted out, first by pushing both her parents away and testing her limits, and then lashing out in anger at the universe for screwing up her life. Sadly, Rayna could empathize with the last part of that, as she prayed diligently to the God she'd counted on to look out for them. Even Daphne chafed against the sadness that seemed to underlay everything, asking to go live with Teddy.

Deacon seemed to revert back to his old ways, pulling inside himself and pushing everyone away. After the initial conversations, he wouldn't talk about his diagnosis. Rayna feared he was giving up. He went on about life as normal, but he seemed distant. She tried leaving him alone, but her instinct was to try to fix things, and she couldn't leave it alone for long. When she tried to help, he got angry and lashed out, only to later beg her forgiveness. It felt so much like it had back when he was drinking, only this time he _wasn't_ drinking and the future looked much more bleak.

_**~nashville~**_

Eventually life returned to normal, or as normal as it could be under the circumstances. Most of the time Deacon didn't seem sick, which made it easier to act like it wasn't happening. By the time the DCB was scheduled to go back in the studio, he was ready. Having something to do helped him forget for a while. Rayna felt encouraged, seeing him feeling positive and smiling again. His mood improved and life around their house was better.

He was on the transplant list, waiting for a donor. Scarlett had gotten tested and was not a match. Rayna wasn't a match. Even Beverly was not a match. Rayna was determined, though, not to let him give up and tried to keep them all focused on being positive. He'd still not told anyone outside the immediate family, trying to keep life as normal as possible.

That all changed the day he passed out at the studio and he finally told his bandmates what was going on. Shocked at the news, they quickly pulled together a show at the Bluebird, filled with Deacon and Rayna's friends in the country music community. They made a plea there for anyone who could to be tested and from there the news spread like wildfire.

_**~nashville~**_

Rayna put down her phone and walked into the den. She sat down next to Deacon on the couch and curled up under his arm, resting her hand on his leg. She took a deep breath. "Hundreds of people have called about being tested to see if they're a match," she said. "Right now, eleven people are going through more thorough testing." She raised her hand up to cover her mouth and choked on a sob. "I can't believe it," she whispered. She turned and looked at him. "It feels like there's hope." He nodded and then his face crumbled with emotion, tears streaming down his face. She put her arms around him and they just held each other as they cried together.

_**~nashville~**_

Rayna still got a little teary when she thought back on those days. It hadn't been long after that Bluebird show when they got the call that an anonymous donor had been found. Although the surgery was painful and his recovery seemed slow, they'd been eternally grateful that Deacon had his second chance. She smiled as she watched him pack up the guitars he'd chosen. _God had taken care of them, and him, after all._

_**The song in this chapter is "Lonely Tonight" by Blake Shelton.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**So here's part two of the Wasted epilogue. Hope y'all enjoy it.**_

By the time Rayna's Grand Ole Opry induction anniversary show was scheduled, it had been more than ten and a half years since that had happened. She had refused to consider doing it until Deacon was feeling well enough to attend and participate. He was sorry he had missed it when she'd gotten inducted originally. Truthfully, he hadn't really even known it had happened. Nashville and everything about it was off his radar screen then. But he knew that had to have been a big night for her – she had confided in him early in their relationship that it was a dream of hers. He may not have been there the night Vince Gill invited her to membership, or the night Little Jimmy Dickens did the formal induction, but he was proud to be included in the anniversary celebration.

She grabbed his hand as they sat on the couch. "I want you to sing with me," she said, with a smile.

He leaned in and kissed her. "What do you want to sing?" he asked.

She screwed up her face. "I don't know. One of our old songs. We can go back through all those old albums and pick one out."

He looked down and then back up at her, his face sad. "I don't know, baby," he said quietly. "Don't get me wrong, those were good songs, but…" He took a deep breath and looked deep in her eyes. "I was a drunk back then, Ray. Life wasn't as good for us back then. Not like it is now."

Rayna looked puzzled. "Do you not want to sing our old songs anymore?"

Deacon shook his head. "It's not that I don't. You know that. Just not for your big night. How 'bout we write something new? Just for that night."

She looked surprised. "Really? What were you thinking?"

He shrugged. "Something about where we are now. How we can't really let each other go."

She smiled at him coyly. "Did you have something in mind?"

He smiled back at her and then pulled her into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "I'm sure we can come up with something. We always do."

She looked up at him. "Are you going to close your eyes and imagine something?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you making fun of the way I write?"

She grinned. "Of course not. It's different than before though."

He nodded. "Well, I wrote by myself for a very long time. And eventually you need some help to come up with ideas." He smiled. "That was mine. But I don't have to write that way."

Rayna sat up and turned towards him, crossing her legs in front of her. "Okay, then let's work on something." She reached towards the coffee table for one of the ever-present notepads and pens that littered the house, ready to be picked up when, and wherever, the songwriting muse struck. "So?"

He looked away thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could write about what our feelings were all those years we were apart, how we felt, how it feels to be together now." He looked back at her. "Unless you weren't thinking that then."

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "You know better than that, Deacon Claybourne. I was running, but I didn't want to be."

He laid a hand on her knee and leaned slightly towards her. "I could hear your footsteps coming down the hall. No matter where I was. I always hoped I'd look up and you'd be there. I dreamt about you, Ray, couldn't stop thinking about you, for a long time." He looked down. "I started dreaming about you again after Jackson died. It was like you were haunting me, but not in a bad way."

She breathed in. "Really?" He looked up at her and nodded. "I pretended for a long time that I didn't miss you," she said quietly. "I couldn't face it myself because it would have made me realize that I thought I'd made a mistake, letting you go." She screwed her face up. "All the other times, babe, I knew you'd be there at the end and the hurt would go away and everything would be the way it was supposed to be. But that last time…." She looked away. "I wish I hadn't pushed you away."

He reached out and laid his palm on her cheek, stroking her lightly with his thumb. He smiled slightly. "How about this? 'You haunt me when I fall asleep, you're in every breath I breathe.' And I didn't even have to close my eyes to come up with that."

Rayna smiled. "I'm impressed, babe." She put the words to a little melody, then wrinkled her nose. "Feels like it needs another line, though."

A smile came over Deacon's face and he moved his hand to her neck and pulled her a little closer to him. "I still hear your footsteps down the hall," he whispered in her ear.

_**~nashville~**_

The Opry anniversary celebration was everything Rayna wanted it to be and Deacon had been grateful to be a part of it. There had been many great remembrances by people Rayna both loved and admired. She had surprised Maddie and Daphne with an invitation to make their Opry debut by singing that night, and Deacon had been honored to support them on guitar. And then, finally, they had debuted the song they'd written, called 'Surrender'.

_You haunt me when I fall asleep / You're in every breath I breathe / I still hear your footsteps down the hall_

_And I keep trying to pretend /This ache for you is gonna end / But I know better than that now_

_So baby please / Tell me why don't we / Take this time we wasted / Don't hold back, let's face it / I need you / And baby you need me_

_We're all we've been missing / If we could just stop resisting / And give in to what's supposed to be / And I'll surrender to you / If you surrender_

_I hear you whisper in the air at night / You're in every single song I write / And every melody I play_

_It doesn't matter where I run / I come back to where I'm running from / Your face is everywhere I turn_

_So baby please / Tell me why don't we / Take this time we've wasted / And don't hold back, let's face it / I need you / And baby you need me_

_We're all we've been missing / If we could just stop resisting / And give in to what's supposed to be / And I'll surrender to you / If you surrender to me_

_I'll surrender to you / If you surrender to me_

He remembered when they had finally finished writing it, many hours after they'd started, having moved to the bedroom early on. They were half sitting, half leaning against the pillows, just looking into each other's eyes, when Rayna had run her lips gently over his. She gave him a little smile and said, "It was only ever you, Deacon, really."

He ran his thumb over her cheek, threading his other fingers into her hair. He sighed contentedly. "I know, baby. Me too."

* * *

"Mom," Maddie whined, as she made her dramatic teenage traipse into her parents' bedroom. "What am I supposed to wear?" She was holding a cream colored drapey tunic and a denim fitted shirt.

Rayna turned to look at her daughter and smiled brightly. "Whatever you want, sweet girl," she said. "I don't remember all this angst over what you were wearing to the Opry a few weeks ago."

Maddie dropped her hands to her side, the tops she was holding touching the floor, and rolled her eyes. "But this is the _Bluebird_, Mom," she said. "It's different."

Deacon walked in behind her and put his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "How is it so different?" he asked.

Maddie turned around to look at him and made a face. "When you're a guy, you can wear that same flannel shirt every single day, without even washing it, and no one cares."

Deacon raised his eyebrows. "I _do_ wash this shirt. And I _don't_ wear it every day," he said, with a smirk.

Maddie scowled. "You know what I mean. Guys can get away with stuff. Girls can't." She whirled around and looked at Rayna. "Right, Mom?"

Rayna looked surprised and then she smiled. "Well, I do understand wanting to wear something special. You're right, it is the Bluebird, after all." She stood up and walked over to her daughter. "Let's go look at your closet, okay?"

Maddie nodded. "Thanks." She stalked off.

Rayna looked at Deacon and winked. "Don't you love teenage girls, babe?"

He reached for her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. "Only when you're their mama, baby," he said, with a smile.

_**~nashville~**_

Rayna smiled to herself as they drove to the Bluebird that night. She reached for Deacon's hand and squeezed it. He looked over at her and smiled back. She guessed she was still in that post-surgery honeymoon phase, where everything was extra sharp and clear and dear to her heart. Every single thing they did, whether it was the first time or one of several, as long as Deacon was part of it, her heart was singing. It was their first time back at the Bluebird since his surgery, but, more importantly, they were doing it as a family.

It was just a couple weeks after her Opry induction anniversary show. She had wondered if it was too much too soon. Deacon had been out of the hospital a little over four months and had only started getting back to normal the last month or so. She thought about that day at the hospital when they wheeled him away from her to the operating room. Surgery had already started for the donor when they came for him. He'd looked so pale and thin. And tired. She'd hated looking in his eyes back then, because she saw such fear and sorrow there. But on that day, she saw hope. And when she finally got to see him in the recovery room afterwards, she had cried to see how much better he looked already.

As he regained his strength, she and the girls had pampered him and waited on him. He would pretend to be gruff, telling them to stop, but she would see the hint of tears in his eyes. When they were alone at night, he would tell her how blessed he felt to still be able to look at her and touch her and hold her in his arms. As soon as he felt able, they would go to the park and walk. She would link her arm in his and they would walk slowly, as far as he felt he could go. Then they would sit and just hold hands and talk, enjoying the moments together.

Now that he was feeling more like himself, they'd spent time writing, and had even gone to the cabin for several family weekend visits. The weekend after the Opry show, they had flown to Austin and spent time at his lake house and visited Jackson.

She looked back at the girls, sitting in the backseat. She smiled at Maddie, who smiled back. Tonight was going to be an exciting night for all of them. Deacon insisted he felt well enough for a whole set, but she was going to keep a close eye on him. She knew he was starting to feel restless. He hadn't been in a studio or on a stage in close to seven months, until the Opry event. She knew writing and performing were in his blood, but she hoped he wasn't trying to take on too much too soon.

_**~nashville~**_

The night had turned out well. Towards the end of the show, Rayna and the girls had taken on a few extra songs when they saw Deacon start to tire. But they'd had a nice mix – Deacon and Rayna, Deacon and the girls, the girls alone, and a surprise song Deacon and Maddie had written together. All in all it had been a success.

Rayna walked over to the bed from the bathroom, rubbing her arms with lotion. Deacon was sitting up with a notebook, scribbling out some lyrics. She smiled and then crawled into the bed and over to where he sat. He looked up at her, over his glasses that were perched on his nose. "Hey, babe," she said. "Aren't you tired?"

He smiled. "A little. But I was waiting for you."

She leaned over to look at his notebook. "What are you writing?"

He shook his head and moved the notebook to the bedside table, taking off his glasses and laying them on top. "It can wait," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'd rather spend time with you."

She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Tonight was nice, I thought," she said.

He ran his hand over her arm and then picked up her other hand in his. "It was," he said thoughtfully. "And I was wondering what you might think about doing something smaller like that again. Just the two of us."

* * *

A couple weeks went by before they talked about Deacon's suggestion about playing at smaller venues again. He knew that it had been a little bit of a sore subject for her, with her album not selling and the label seemingly content to let things ride as she'd focused on taking care of him. The reality was that an artist's career wasn't going to last forever, but he knew she wasn't ready to acknowledge that yet. This had been all she'd ever wanted, and all she knew how to do, and he felt pretty sure she was mourning the loss of it.

The part that felt unfair was that his band's popularity had stayed high. They had released an EP instead of a full album, with the material the band had recorded before Deacon's illness had forced them to stop. The band had gone out and done some shows under their alternate identity, _The Wild Feathers_, but DCB was still front of mind for most fans. The music industry was rarely 'fair', however. It was all about what sold.

He sighed. He was all alone at the house. Rayna had taken the girls to school and then was meeting with Bucky in advance of a meeting at her label. He knew she was nervous about it and she had dressed carefully that morning. When he'd kissed her goodbye, though, she still had that hazy afterglow about her from their early morning lovemaking and so she was trying to be hopeful.

He stretched carefully. Even though his incision was long since healed, he still took things easy. One day, he knew, he'd feel completely normal again, but it still felt tenuous. He sat on one of the lounge chairs looking out over the pool and smiled wryly. He had moved into this house with much trepidation. This was the house that Rayna had literally built with Teddy and, although he'd never seen the two of them live in it together, it felt strange at first. It had reminded him of Blair's house in Dallas – not his style, too big, not his comfort zone. But eventually he'd come to realize that home was where Rayna was and the walls they surrounded themselves with weren't nearly as important as the relationship they had within them. So he'd settled in and eventually they'd made this house their home.

When he had woken up that morning, she was laying curled up into him, her hand on his chest, her leg tangled in his, the way she always slept. The bed they shared was huge, much larger than the bed they'd shared back when she'd moved into his studio apartment after Lamar kicked her out of the house and even the bed they'd shared at the East Nashville bungalow. And yet they always fell asleep curled up around each other, in as small an amount of space as possible.

He had one arm around her, the other on his abdomen. He looked down at her sleeping face, smooth and worry-free, with just the hint of a smile, which made him smile. He shifted slightly and moved his hand down to wake her up with a touch he knew she liked. She had moaned softly and then slowly opened her eyes to look up at him. He moved his hand more firmly and she had gasped, then bit her lip as she moved her hips. That had ultimately led to raw, passionate lovemaking that had left them both breathless. Afterwards there had been that feeling of exquisite connectedness and he couldn't stop rubbing her arm or giving her little kisses as they got dressed and as she got the girls ready for school.

So now he was waiting for her. He wanted to talk to her some more about his idea. The closer it got to when he needed to be back in the studio with DCB, the more he didn't want to do that. Life seemed infinitely more precious these days and he didn't want to waste it away from her. He heard her heels tapping against the concrete of the pool deck as she walked out to where he was. He looked back and watched her approach, thinking she didn't look happy.

She stopped in front of the chair next to him and shrugged out of her suit jacket, tossing it on the end of the chair. Then she kicked off her shoes and sat on the side of the chair, facing him. Her face looked weary, her mouth turned down. He just raised his eyebrows and looked at her. He wanted to let her tell him in her own time. Finally she sighed and looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I think I'm done, babe," she said, her voice filled with sadness. "They want to put out that greatest hits album and call it a day. No tour, no support. I'm done."

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Look at me, Ray," he said softly, and she did. He felt his heart clench as he saw the hint of tears in her eyes and the look of resignation on her face. "You're not done, baby."

She made a face. "Did you hear what I just said? A greatest hits album. You know as well as I do, that's the kiss of death."

He frowned. "Not if you package it right. You and me, we can work on that together. Pick out the right songs, set up your second act."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember when I said we should think about doing something, just the two of us?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, babe, we can play at the Bluebird whenever you want now."

He sat up, turning to sit on the edge of his chair, opposite her, taking both her hands in his. "I meant you and me, a duo again, like in the beginning."

"You don't have time for that, Deacon. You're going back in the studio…."

"I'm not gonna do that, Ray. I decided I'm done with that. I can't do it anymore. I can't be gone from you that much. I hate that part of it and I'm just not gonna do it anymore."

She raised her eyebrows. "What are you saying?"

He grinned. "You not listening to me?" He leaned closer to her. "I want to go on the road with _you_, just you. We can go back to being Deacon and Rayna."

She smiled playfully. "Rayna and Deacon," she said.

He laughed. "Rayna and Deacon it is. Back to the beginning. Only better. We have that new stuff we did and we can write more. I'd rather do that than go back out on the road with DCB." He leaned forward and brushed her lips with a kiss. "Want to?"

She looked at him and smiled again. "Are you really sure you want to do that? Give up stadium tours and platinum albums and all those adoring fans? To play in little places with a fading country singer?"

He slid his hand behind her neck and ran his thumb over her cheek, pulling her closer and kissing her again. "I'm not giving up a thing," he whispered. "I'm getting the Queen of Country Music, all to myself. Doing what we love. Together."

She kissed him back, tears in her eyes. He reached for her hand and stood up, pulling her up with him. "Let's go get creative, baby," he said, with a wink, and he led her up to the house.

* * *

They'd been doing this a long time now. Seven years. It had worked out just the way Deacon said it would. The two of them together had had a good run. True, they didn't play stadiums. They didn't even play the big arenas. But they played the smaller places. Fifteen to twenty thousand a night, some nights. And as they both got older, they appreciated the gradual winding down of things. Together.

Rayna hadn't been ready to hang up her rhinestones. This had been the perfect second act, as Deacon had called it. Fans had mourned the end of _The Deacon Claybourne Band_, although the rest of the band continued to have success as _The Wild Feathers_. She and Deacon had spent several months writing and recording, fine tuning what they wanted to do next. True to his word, he'd helped her package _'With Love, Rayna'_, the greatest hits album she exited Edgehill Republic with.

They founded Highway 65 Records as a boutique label primarily to publish their own music, but they took on a handful of other artists as the years went by, becoming an incubator for new talent in country music. One of those acts was _The Belle Meade Sister Society_, otherwise known as Maddie Claybourne and Daphne Conrad, and they were periodic co-headliners with Deacon and Rayna on the road.

They were playing the Fox in Atlanta on the night of their tenth anniversary. It was one of their favorite venues, with its Spanish and Arabian touches and the twinkling star lights on the vast ceiling. It was a cozy place, reminiscent of the Ryman, and they always sold it out, as they had this night. Deacon took her hand and led her up the steps to the balcony. They chose two seats in the middle of one of the top rows and looked down on the stage.

She looked at him and smiled. "I wonder how many times we've done this in our careers," she said.

He grinned and squeezed her hand. "Thousands, I bet." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I love doing this with you."

"Me too." She took a deep breath. "I don't think I ever told you about the time I came to see you here."

He frowned. "Here?"

"I mean, at the arena here. When you still had your band." He looked confused. "Before you came back to Nashville."

He raised his eyebrows. "You came to a show?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "It was when Maddie was about ten. She and Daphne and Teddy had gone on a trip and I bought a ticket to your show and came here." She smiled. "I sat up in the nosebleed section and wore glasses and no makeup."

"Have I ever seen you in glasses?" he asked teasingly.

She made a face and swatted his arm. "Shut up." Then she smiled. "You were amazing. I was so proud of you, even though I had no right to be. I just wanted to see you standing in front of a crowd. And I knew right then you were meant for that." She looked at him wistfully. "You really always were. And I'm so glad you got that chance."

He breathed out. "I wish I'd known you were there."

She shook her head. "No, it was better that you didn't. Things were really different then. For both of us."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." He smiled. "But now we're here together, doing this together."

She leaned over and kissed him. "Thank you for this, babe. All of this. For not letting me give up."

He kissed her, letting his lips linger a bit. Then he said, "Come on, baby, it's time for sound check."

* * *

They ended the show the way they always did, with 'Surrender' and, finally, 'No One Will Ever Love You'. Those two songs never failed to not only please the crowd, but they always felt wrapped up in their own personal cocoon of connectedness. On this night, maybe because it was a special day for them, Deacon could see that Rayna was a little breathless at the end. She held his look a beat longer than normal. He felt his heart tighten a little in his chest as he looked at her, still as lovely as when he'd first met her. The words of the song seemed even more true every time they sang them.

_No one will ever love you / like I do_

He smiled at her and she grabbed his hand. He leaned over his guitar and kissed her as the crowd roared its approval. Then, as always, they stood up together, to acknowledge the applause. Usually that was when they left the stage, but as Rayna started to move, Deacon squeezed her hand and held her in place. She looked at him, a little puzzled.

He dropped her hand and went to raise up the microphone in front of him, moving it two steps forward. He looked back at her and could see the surprise in her eyes. He grinned broadly and then leaned into the mic. "Today is a very special day for us," he said. "Usually we don't make a big deal out of it, but I think ten years married is pretty special, don't y'all?" The crowd yelled and whistled their agreement. He looked towards Rayna. "Baby, I love you more today than I did then and I sure did love you a lot then." He could see the glistening of tears in her eyes. "So we gotta surprise for you. Ladies and gentlemen, Maddie and Daphne!"

Just then, from behind her, Maddie and Daphne walked out onto the stage. Rayna's eyes widened with joy and she held her arms out to her girls, pulling them in for a hug. Maddie had her guitar and so she settled in next to Deacon, after giving him a hug, and raised up the mic Rayna had used. Daphne had two microphones in her hands and gave one to her mother.

Maddie then leaned into the mic and said, "Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad. Hope y'all always have a life that's good." Then for the first time on stage in several years, the four of them sang the song that Deacon had written for Rayna back when he'd first met her, the song that symbolized all that was good about their life together.

_Sittin' here tonight / By the fire light / It reminds me I already have more than I should / I don't need fame / No one to know my name / At the end of the day / Lord I pray, I have a life that's good_

_Two arms around me / Heaven to ground me / And a family that always calls me home / Four wheels to get there, enough love to share / And a sweet, sweet, sweet song / At the end of the day / Lord I pray, I have a life that's good_

_Sometimes I'm hard on me / When dreams don't come easy / I wanna look back and say / I did all that I could / Yeah at the end of the day / Lord I pray / I have a life that's good_

_Two arms around me / Heaven to ground me / And a family that always calls me home / Four wheels to get there, enough love to share / And a sweet, sweet, sweet song / At the end of the day / Lord I pray, I have a life that's good_

**THE END**


End file.
